Legacy
by Kelimion
Summary: post-Wilson's Heart. A recent death makes House think about his legacy, not being the fatherly type he decides to expand his department. - House/Thirteen romance, House/Wilson and House/Hodgins friendships. Some "Bones" x-over. Collab w/ FantasyFreak4Life
1. Done being morose

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Summary: Set two weeks after the 4th season finale. Thirteen hands in her resignation to House, he refuses to accept it; a side of House he usually hides emerges during the long talk that follows.**

**Keywords: House/Thirteen, Alternative Universe, Mature**

**Author's note: This is the first time I've written fan fiction... sort of. Recently I've started on a rather large piece of fan fiction, being a crossover between NCIS, Bones and Criminal Minds. Yes, I'm probably mad for starting with something like that. But, seeing as that's nowhere remotely close to suitable for consumption, here is something that kept bubbling up.**

**Warning: It's heavy on dialogue, seeing as it tends to come easily to me. In later chapters it'll probably balance out a bit.**

**Soundtrack for this chapter: _Hope for the Hopeless_ by _A Fine Frenzy_, as published on _One Cell in the Sea_.**

**Disclaimer: I'll put them back in their original places when I'm done, promise. Then again, everyone lies.**

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**Chapter 1 – Done being morose**

Thump. Thump. Thump. House sat in his office, throwing and catching the ball, the ceiling being the target of his displeasure for the time being. Wilson hadn't spoken to him in two weeks, not more than single-syllable answers anyway, and it made House miserable. Reflecting on this he corrected himself. "More miserable than usual." he muttered under his breath. He'd tried listening to a few tracks earlier, but his iPod lay on the floor in pieces, at least the ceiling wasn't so damn fragile. Thump. Thump. Someone caught the ball in midair.

He looked up, about to lash out in anger when he noticed Thirteen had interrupted him. Not that it would've stopped him from lashing out normally, but she looked even more miserable than he felt. Pondering this for half a second he still couldn't figure out why that made him hold back, then his gaze fell on the envelope she was holding. Curiosity overtook him. "Are those Cuddles' nudy pics I heard a rumor about?" he asked, raising a solitary eyebrow.

"You started that rumor." Thirteen deadpanned, but despite herself couldn't keep a smirk from forming. "In fact if the word rumor ever appeared on the white board, along with inappropriate, the diagnosis would probably be House." she continued.

He grinned widely, never good at resisting a smile when paid a compliment. "What's with the envelope, then?" he wondered out loud, curiosity once again getting the better of him. She handed it to him, turning to leave. "My two weeks notice, see you tomorrow."

House spluttered. "What?!" He grabbed his cane and intercepted her, surprising her with his quickness and agility. "The hell you are, I don't accept your resignation." She laughed a mirthless laugh, then said. "Bye House." About to walk out of the office she found he'd locked it. "You're going nowhere, you owe me." he replied.

"I what?!" she said indignantly, beside herself, eyes burning with anger. "Sit." he said simply. When she refused, he went on. "You owe me two weeks, and before you say you're going to be here like usual," he held up a hand. "I wouldn't have expected anything less from you. But you also owe me a reason, I think. Why are you quitting?"

Knowing she wasn't going anywhere unless he wanted her she sat down, still glaring at him. She made a mental note to file a complaint with Cuddy later. "None of your damn business, you're not my boyfriend."

House chuckled. "I know, or I'd turn that frown upside down. Seriously, give me half an hour to change your mind about leaving." He walked to his desk, leaned against it, facing her.

Now it was Thirteen's turn to chuckle. "Having your way with me in your office for half an hour won't change my mind, House. Besides, aren't you always bragging about your stamina?" He raised his eyebrow again in question at the change in topic. "When did this conversation change into a discussion of my sexual prowess?" he countered.

Thirteen huffed. "What conversation with you doesn't turn out that way?" she challenged. Thinking about this for a moment he had to admit she was right. "Fair enough, I'm just used to me steering it in that direction." Understanding dawned on him. "It was the frown bit, wasn't it?"

She nodded, then sighed. Rubbing her face for a moment with her palms, she composed herself. "You have twenty-something minutes left, and sex talk isn't going to change my mind. It might get you a harassment suit, though. Talk, why do you want me to stay?"

Feigning shock he let his mouth hang open while he thought, why did he want her to stay... "You first, why do you want to leave?"

Her anger flared up again, a moment, but she decided she was to tired to keep glaring at him. "You're the brilliant diagnostician, you tell me." She replied quietly.

"In answer to your question, you're an almost equally brilliant diagnostician, and I don't want to see my effort go to waste." He said, surprised at himself for saying something nice. More surprising was that he didn't feel the need to take it back, he had done a good job with her, it lifted his spirits a bit.

She looked at him, almost lost for words. "Did you just pay me a compliment?" Came her reply, almost breathing the words. Tilting her head as if looking at him from a slightly different angle gave her a better understanding of his reasoning. "Too little, too late, House." She said with more force. "Besides, even if you meant that, it doesn't change the reason for my decision. Unlike Cameron I don't live for your validation."

He laughed at this for a moment while he walked over to her, and set himself down on the floor in front of her. "As hard as it probably is to believe, that was a genuine pat on the back. Then again, since it sounds more like me, I could also say it's a job well done on my part for furthering your education, warped as my methods may be."

She laughed at this. "Warped, House, honestly? Warped doesn't even begin to cover the load, sheer physical and emotional torture sounds more like it." He shrugged, and replied. "Well, it worked, didn't it. Or are you too stubborn to admit you're a much better doctor now than when you started out?" She had no answer to that, he was right about that part. "Let me ask you this then... knowing what you know now, would you still have applied for the fellowship?"

Thirteen took a few moments to think about this, then sighed. "I would."

House was secretly pleased with himself, but kept his face impartial. "Your reason for leaving... positive, right?" Alluding to the test he had made her take, knowing that not knowing was eating her up and preventing her from doing the job she did so well.

Nodding, she made an effort to strengthen her resolve not to cry in his presence, there was plenty of time for that at home, and she wasn't sure she had that many left after the past two weeks. "I just want to live life before it's over, House."

He understood this all too well, he was tired being miserable. "I understand." he said sincerely, and she was taken aback a bit hearing this tone in his voice. Looking up at him, she asked. "So you understand why I must go, you won't contest it?"

Shaking his head, he answered. "I know why you want to go, but don't take this the wrong way when I ask." She nodded assent before he continued. "Why do you think you need to throw your life away in order to live it?"

She sat there, stunned, wanting to answer but ... what? He was right, she'd be throwing everything she worked so hard for away. Still thinking about a possible response, she heard him talk again. "Look, I don't make apologies often, or ever come to think about it, but in this case I'm sorry for being so blunt. Okay?"

"It's not okay, is what I'm trying to say, House. You're right though, if I resign I'll be discarding this life for a shot at happiness." She kept her eyes on his gaze, not sure what she saw there. Pity? Not likely. Concern? Maybe.

"I'll tell you what you think you were hoping to accomplish by quitting, and if I'm wrong feel free to tell me. For once I won't insist that I'm right even when I am." He winked at her. "Go for it, you still haven't changed my mind. But I can say with some honesty that I'm dying to know where _your_ sudden candor comes from." Reviewing what she said she laughed at the morbid play of words she'd used, House joined her. "I see I'm not the only one who uses humor as a defense mechanism." he replied, still chuckling.

"Alright," he began. "you think maybe that your given name, Remy, means you're doomed to be alone; yet you don't believe in the power of names, and rightly so. If names had anything to say about who we are, I'd be called Doctor Brilliant Miser."

She flashed him a genuine smile at the joke, and found that even though she had figured he'd figure it out, she felt certain he wouldn't take advantage of the knowledge by sinking a barb in. For some reason unknown to her, Greg House, the mysterious, the unflappable, the morose, had let her inside his perimeter, even if a little. "Well... not saying you've made your point and I'll stay, it's not as if one has much hope of a social life here, right?"

Greg sighed. "First of all, if you mean sex life by that, or romantic life, or whatever it is... you're gonna do what, exactly? Fuck every guy and/or girl you come across that even looks halfway decent, in the hope you find _happiness_ somewhere along the line, your _soul mate_? And again, I'm not saying this to hurt you, but that's pretty much what you're looking for, plus or minus the promiscuity."

Remy rolled her eyes, looked at the floor. "I guess. And I knew you had to steer the conversation to sex again, somehow. What're you proposing then, that I show up at your apartment tonight wearing nothing but a raincoat? Because sex isn't everything, Greg, and I think even you have figured this out. Or do you really want to tell me your bum leg is the sole source of your misery?"

Now she'd hit bullseye, and she saw it as his eyes widened, even if only a moment. "Well, if you did show up like that and flashed the goods when I open the door, I'm reasonably sure I wouldn't complain too much." He tilts his head a bit, feigning a moment of deep thought. "Nope, I'm pretty sure I'd let you in. If nothing else it means I can cancel tonight's hooker."

She shakes her head, he really is incorrigible. "While I'm sure you could help release some feel-good hormones, that's only really part of the issue, and it's a temporary fix. Ask Cuddy, she's an endocrinologist."

"It's funny you should mention that," House replies. "ever since the McDreamy moment Cuddles and I had, way back when, I'm pretty sure she hasn't had a man since. Of course after rocking her world she knew that no man could ever compare, so I don't blame her."

And here was the proof in the pudding. "You really are incorrigible. Even though that half hour is fast ticking away, I'll let you off the clock. Talk, you said 'firstly', mentioning I might or might not be easy, and then what... what's 'secondly'?"

"Secondly, a positive test for chorea major means you're at risk, yes. It doesn't mean that you'll actually develop it. And I know you're probably going to say you've had tremors before to which I say 'uhuh, so what?' Be reasonable here, with the hours we work, lack of a proper circadian rhythm, stress, and the record amounts of coffee we drink, can you say with absolute certainty that's Juvenile Huntington's, or just maybe you need some time to unwind? Because if it's the latter, I'll give you your two weeks, gladly, but it'll be paid leave of absence."

She shook her head, this time not in dismissal. "Why is it you're always right, House?"

"It's a gift." He winked, took her hands into his own, and looked at her.

"What? You going to proclaim your undying love to me now, ask me to marry you, because I don't think I can accept. I don't feel about you that way quite strongly enough, and we haven't even had sex yet."

They kept their eyes locked together, and both laughed hysterically for a moment, but she made no move to reclaim her hands; obviously he had something important to say that he needed her to feel he was utterly sincere about.

"No, that's not it, although I won't turn down a good romp with you, if that was an offer." House quipped, and a moment of silence followed in which he thought how to phrase the rest. "Look Remy, if you don't mind me calling you that. You're a brilliant young doctor, so you know even if you were to develop chorea, that it's still some twenty years away, and that it's manageable. And yes, some of the more severe symptoms won't be a walk in the park, and will shorten your life expectancy. But everybody dies eventually, and again it's not even certainty this will be your lot. Don't throw your life away trying to live it."

Once again Thirteen had to keep herself from tearing up, although she felt less self-conscious about doing so in front of House now, should she come undone. "Why are you doing this, Greg?"

"Because I'm tired of being miserable." he muttered under his breath. She'd caught it nonetheless, kept looking at him, it was almost as if she'd never met this man before. This version of him before her was almost... _almost what, Remy?_ Likable. "Huh?" she said, at her own train of thought as much as to prompt House to speak up.

He took a deep breath, another, a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere down at Pathology escaped him. "Because I'm tired of being miserable, and I have no pleasure in seeing you miserable too. Wilson hasn't talked to me ever since..."

"Amber died," she finished for him. Taking her right hand from him, she patted on the sofa next to her, intent on studying this side of House, before it disappeared as it seemed inevitable to do.

He took the offered seat, turning to face her, and noticing she was still holding on to his other hand made no mention of this. _She's surprisingly good company, Greg, don't screw this up. Someone who will actually still listen to you after you abused them, don't scare her away now, it's not as if Cancer Boy will hear you out._ "And who's fault is that." he'd said it aloud, noticing this he censored himself. "Sorry, I was responding to my inner monologue, although I do feel partially responsible for Amber's death. I mean intellectually I know that I couldn't have stopped that accident, but it was my fault she was on that bus. Jimmy will probably never forgive me for that; of all the unlikely people, she did seem to make him happy."

Thirteen wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, but House looked even worse for wear than usual, and truth be told he had lifted her spirits some. "Not so unlikely, she was practically a female carbon copy of you."

House laughed, squeezed the hand he realized again he was still holding. "Thanks, but I'm not sure I swing that way."

Remy gave him a winning smile. "I meant he'll come around, he can't stay mad at you forever."

House quirked an eyebrow at that, cracked a little smile of himself. "I sure hope so, I'm beginning to dread more days like this. A Rueben just doesn't taste as well when you have to get it yourself."

"Humor as a coping mechanism, it suits you, though." Thirteen replied. House just shrugged. "Can I tell you something personal, Remy? I mean I haven't even told Wilson this, and if you breathe a word of this I'll have to kill you."

She shrugged in return. "You might be doing me a favor, not so much a threat now, is it?" A wink let him know she wasn't serious about wanting out, she did feel a lot better now.

"Well, if I put Ebola in your next cup of coffee, you'd probably think again." He stuck out his tongue for a second.

Remy mimicked his gesture. "I'm glad there's no case today, and with the Hardy boys on clinic duty... at least we haven't been interrupted. But go on, tell me what you want to tell me. Just don't think you _have_ to so I'll stay, you can tear up yonder envelope. I've let emotions cloud my better judgment."

House considered this. "I'm glad, for reasons I'll let you know in a bit. Obviously you're good, truth be told the most promising fellow I've had. That isn't another compliment to keep you here, you know. But I have a point to make somewhere along the line that'll explain why I said it."

A slight blush spread across Remy's cheeks involuntarily. She knew she was good, and given that House did seem to be in a rather unexpected and unusual mood of sincerity, his praise meant more than the empty things men usually said, mostly having little to do with her brain. She knew she had a fine physique, but it's not as if she had any hand in that, unlike her education in medicine which was hard work. Logically she valued comments regarding her intelligence over the usual alternative, lame pickup lines that made her cringe or shudder. Before House could ask her what she was thinking about, she gave a slight nod. "Go on."

"It's about the primary source for my misery. You see while most people think it's about my bum leg, it isn't."

Remy didn't know what to make of that, and a raised eyebrow conveyed as much to him. "Okay, it is partly about that. On a good day the pain is what I imagine giving birth must feel like, and on a bad day it feels like getting shot all over again." As if to make a point he popped a Vicodin. "Mind you the pills do help, but it's mostly a trick of the mind that I'm not in constant agony. I was in the beginning."

She had an inkling that wouldn't be easy to live with, indeed. "But enough a constant source of discomfort that it would make you miserable, I get it."

House smiled. "Well, there's truth to that. But as Cancer Boy and Cuddles will tell you if you ask, I was a miserable bastard before the infarction, just slightly less so. Who knows, for all I know it's part of my winning personality, back then I had women throw themselves at me as well, so it's not all about the leg."

Of course he had to joke about it again, but at least the truth wasn't as heavily veiled behind it as usual. Remy found herself actually enjoying this banter. "Then what?"

"Oh right, I knew I was going somewhere with this." he grinned. "This is why I know you wouldn't have been any happier if you'd left to get your freak on allover town. I was in love once, and through some strange quirk of fate, joke of the universe, whatever you want to call it... I had a girlfriend who loved me back. While the reason she did is probably life's greatest mystery, I was happy. Miserable too, of course, just less often, and less intensely so."

He paused for a moment, expecting Thirteen to say that no way could she entertain the notion of him being in love, let alone someone ever having loved him. When she didn't and just kept looking at him, he continued. "So this infarction comes along, and as my medical proxy she decided to have the dead muscle tissue removed. I'd already told her that no way in hell would I have anybody do that, no more than I'd let them cut off my leg. But, as proxy, she decided that given the alternative of doing nothing meant I could die... well, you know the rest. At least you know why people assume I lash out at everything and anyone."

"You pushed her away because she went against your decision, and because you're always right you couldn't bring yourself to get her back even though you were miserable without her. Plus, I think, you always wondered if she overruled your decision because she was looking out for you, wanting you to live, or because she was selfish, and wanted you to live." Remy blurted out, understanding dawning on her.

"Huh." House was dumbstruck, he was about to say the same thing, maybe in slightly different words. "See, I told you're an incredibly talented diagnostician."

She smiled. "Well, I have you to thank for that. Thanks for not accepting my resignation."

"You're welcome." He gave her a playful punch on the shoulder. "There's something more, though, and it concerns you as well."

Remy arched an eyebrow. "Is this where you ask if I've ever been in love?"

House smirked. "No, but feel free to tell me, I can put what I was going to say on hold for a moment." He stood up, got Bourbon and two plastic cups out of the drawer, and set himself down beside her again. Having poured each two fingers of the liquid, he set down the bottle, she took the cup he held out to her, thought a moment, and took a sip.

"I thought I was once, but in retrospect I think it was more of an LUG-type infatuation."

"Lesbian Undergrad?" he asked, his voice pitched so she knew he wasn't making a point of it.

"Close. Lesbian until Graduation. But then as you move on and drift apart, you realize it was just a combination of chocolate and orgasms that made you feel like that. Or at least I suspect it wasn't the real deal, I'd have made more of an effort, right? Truth be told I didn't feel a whole lot about letting her go." She took a sip. "And before you ask, I like men well enough. I've been known to eat meat, feeling stuffed afterwards." A saucy smile on her face, knowing he would catch the double entendre.

House's bourbon almost went down the wrong pipe at that last remark. "Embarrassed, Greggo?"

"Who, me? Never. No such thing." he grinned.

"I have a feeling though, that if or when I fall in love, it'll sneak up on me. So I see what you're saying about running away looking for it, it wouldn't work." Remy said, her expression almost wistful.

"Sage words, my young grasshopper." He held up his plastic cup in a toast, she touched it with hers. "Ad fundum." Both of them finished the shot.

"So," Remy said. "you said you had something else to say, something that involved me. Seeing as we've already decided you weren't going to proclaim your love for me, what is it?"

A twinkle in her eyes made Greg wonder. _Is that her way of asking if I was about to say that? Heck, I like her well enough, but even I don't know if I love her. _Not that he was sure how he felt about her, he could definitely see her over at his place as a friend. This talk had done wonders for his mood, finally getting these things off his chest did make it easier to breathe. And if, while she was over eating pizza and talking, he accidentally brushed against her in interesting places... well, he wasn't immune to her charms. He knew he had to speak soon, or she'd be left thinking that was _exactly_ what he was about to say. No way was he about to kill this budding friendship, romance, whatever it was, with a remark he wasn't even sure about. "No, I'm not, but I make no assumptions about the future. I'm a lot of things, psychic isn't one of them." He stuck out his tongue again, leaving her to wonder how serious he was at this moment. "I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, more than usual, that is."

Remy locked her eyes with his again, trying to decipher where he was going, a moment of intensity showed in his cerulean orbs. If she didn't know better she'd have said House did have some sort of feelings for her, regardless of whether he knew himself. She let it slide for the time being, curious as to what he'd been thinking about. "Anything in particular?"

"Of course, I never think about random things except when I intend to think randomly about them." He grinned, but the grin died away as he continued. "Ever since Amber died, leaving Jim devastated, I found myself wondering. At some point in time they probably would've had children. And before you tell me that whatever I may think, you're most definitely not having children with me, I wasn't getting at that. Heck, I'd have a 'worst possible father in the world' mug printed up for myself preemptively, but for the time being that title goes to my old man."

Remy's expression was part shock, part amusement at his bittersweet joke, and part... could she feel sorry for him? He didn't think so, but decided to file away the look, intent on deciphering it later. "It makes a guy think, all I'm saying, when someone close to you dies. Regardless of how well you liked them. I'm not usually one to dwell on my own mortality, given the amount of Vicodin I pop and the weird stunts I've managed, I think you know as much. But it left me thinking what in the hell my legacy would be. Again I'm not normally given to dwell on that, even if it seems to be an anthropological imperative. Then it hit me." He looked at her seriously. "You guys."

"Us? So that's why you reacted so strongly when I gave you my notice. I'm not sure how to respond to that, Greg." Remy was flabbergasted, how _does_ one respond to something like that.

"Well, I'm not saying you're a daughter to me. That would make my earlier proposal a bit too perverted, even for my taste." He said, trying to lighten the mood. They shared a healthy laugh at that. "So, what are you saying... you're not thinking of retiring, are you?" she asked.

"NO! Hell no, as much as I may try to avoid work, I still love it. Just don't tell Cuddy that, or she'll cut my paycheck." He quipped. "No, I have an appointment two days from now with someone we saved a while back. Hell has frozen over, pigs fly, and Greg House will voluntarily have dinner with a potential donor."

Her eyes couldn't get much bigger if she tried. "Who are you, and what have you done with Doctor House."

He smirked. "Well, I told you I've been thinking a lot of late. This guy told me if I ever needed anything, to call him. And as you know, the day Greg House needs anything but a good romp in the sack and a Rueben, the world's come to an end. Seeing as it was mysteriously there this morning, I gave his secretary a call."

"A donation, huh... what does this have to do with me, exactly? I'm not going to show him a good time to wheel in that donation, if that's what you're thinking." She said, half seriously.

House chuckled. "No, nothing like that. I'm not big on sharing." This time he had the saucy smile. "I plan to get him to drop between ten to twenty million on an idea I have for this department."

"Which you're going to run by me, I take it?" She had to give to him, he talked a good game and he'd probably get that donation. What was he going to do with it, though?

"Take the day off, Remy. I'll tell you tonight, over dinner. I have some arrangements to make." He picked up the bottle and stood up.

"Somehow I have the feeling that while you are probably going to tell me what that plan is, if I show up to hear about it tonight, you're going to make a pass at me." She said, not sure if she wanted him to or not.

"I'll try and be on my best behavior, I just think better when there's pizza. As I said before though, I make no guarantees toward the future. Particularly after this chat, I can't say with honesty I didn't like it." House put what was left of the Bourbon back in the drawer, and threw the empty cups in the bin.

"I'll come, but I won't be wearing that raincoat." She replied, instantly regretting it and knowing what he'd say next.

"Huh. I'll tell my neighbors to look out for a hot naked young woman, then... Oh, you meant you were going to wear something else?" House was thoroughly enjoying this game.

"I meant I'm going to wear something respectable tonight, and like you, I make no guarantees regarding what may come. See you at seven." She replied, the saucy smile still on her face as she unlocked and left his office.

House shook his head and sighed. "That woman will be the death of me."

He heard the door open again, her face stuck around the corner. "Thanks for the lovely chat, I enjoyed it as well. Don't forget to tear up that letter." And she was gone, again.

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**Author's note: So here it is, the first chapter of my first fanfic. And whilst House was out of character, I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Comments and criticism are welcome. I have a good idea where the next two chapters are going, I just need to write them. This one I wrote in about four hours, so the others won't take too long follow.**


	2. Don't be such a girl, part 1

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Soundtrack for this chapter: _Substitute_ by _The Who_**

**Disclaimer: I only own the distinctly weird bits that seem out of place.**

**Authors note: Thanks kindly to those who've added this story to their favorite/alerts list. A greater thank you still goes out to those of you who've left me a review of the first chapter. In particular I'd like to thank FantasyFreak4Life who wondered why I didn't finger Foreman as House's top underling, I'll be addressing my reasoning behind it in the following chapters. A quick update here with the first part of the second chapter, a longer part two following within a day most likely.**

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**Chapter 2 – Don't be such a girl, _part 1_**

Left. Stop. Right. Stop. Thirteen was pacing circles around her bedroom, had been for some time now. _Stop being such a girl._ She berated herself for acting like a stereotypical girl some few hours before prom night. The thing was, she couldn't tell what annoyed her more, not knowing what to wear, or worrying about it. It _had_ to be the latter, right. "Come on Thirteen, it's no big deal. Some work related chat, some pizza, it's not as if it's a date." Left. Stop.

Damn that man, who not only had her unable to figure out something as simple as a choice of wardrobe, now he had her addressing herself as Thirteen in the privacy of her own thoughts as well. Letting out a stream of entirely unladylike verbiage helped her gain some much needed clarity, she'd show him alright. Knowing exactly what to wear now she laid the ensemble out on her bed, took a quick shower, and dressed. _But what if _he_ thinks it _is_ a date?_ Another circuit was completed. _Don't be silly, he _said_ it wasn't._ That made her feel better for a bit until she recalled the mantra of the man who'd asked her over, one Greg House. _Everybody lies._

"Damn you, House!" she let fly, storming out of her bedroom towards the hallway, picking up her backpack and keys on the way. Putting on an acid green raincoat she left her apartment, her eyes suddenly showing amusement, what could be called a slightly malicious grin accompanying it; before the night was out, Greg House would squirm. There was one thing she had to find an answer to before that happened. _Agony or pleasure, Remy?_

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Meanwhile House went through a disturbingly similar routine at his place. It wasn't so much that he didn't know what to wear, it wasn't a date, after all. He'd made clear as much, didn't he? Reviewing his earlier words he wasn't so sure anymore. "Best behavior... isn't that what to expect on a date, though." Muttering this, he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, casual was the way to go. "Then again this _is_ a work-related talk." He left the buttons undone, it's not as if he dressed any less casual at the hospital.

"Just stop being such a damn girl, House!" he reprimanded himself. Feeling uncertain wasn't something that agreed with him, not by a long shot. He'd make her pay for this, by the end of the evening he'd make her squirm, alright. "But in agony or pleasure." he mused. A knock at the door knocked him out of his reverie, composing himself he walked over and opened it.

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For a moment House just stood there, agape. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. _Oh no, she didn't._ Remy was pretty certain something along those lines was in his thoughts as he noticed the raincoat, still securely wrapped around her. Remy's eyes twinkled as she undid the coat, right on his doorstep, and his eyes bugged out even farther.

He swallowed hard and mustered all self control he could find. "That's quite a nice little nothing you're almost wearing. I approve." He managed, almost entirely unconvincingly not in charge of his voice, which came out sounding like Donald Duck, and not so much as Greg House. Thirteen was back in control of the game and grinned, recognizing the quote. "I don't dress for the hired help. Let's see your passport, House."

Shaking his head he recovered, thinking again what he had thought this morning. _Yes, this woman will most definitely do me in._ "Please, do come." He stood aside to let her in. If she was going to play it like that, she was quickly going to discover who'd invented this game. Still, he was impressed she could toss back a quote at him like that, she hadn't even been born when Diamonds are Forever was released. _Just great_. Now he felt even more like a cradle robbing pervert. He kept reminding himself that this was not a date, this was not a date, this was _not _a date. _Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, House._

* * *

**Again thanks to those who've reviewed so far. Comments and criticisms are still welcome. Part 2 of this chapter will follow before too long, showcasing the actual date-like non-date, where hopefully House can compose himself long enough to actually share the idea he invited her over for in the first place. :P  
**


	3. Don't be such a girl, part 2

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Soundtrack for this chapter: _Substitute_ by _The Who_**

**Disclaimer: I only own the distinctly weird bits that seem out of place.**

**Authors note: Thanks again to all reviewers. After this I'll make sure not to split up a chapter again. **

**Chapter 2 – Don't be such a girl, _part 2_**

* * *

House was finding it decidedly difficult to think, whatever it was called that she was almost wearing was low cut in the front, a split ran up the side of her left leg. _And a shapely leg it is. Concentrate, House. Eyes front._ "Did Cuddles organize another fund raiser that I forgot about?" _Right, banter you can handle._ He thought this was exactly why he didn't open up to people, it left him far too... human, with human reactions. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen a woman before, even a particularly well engineered example like Thirteen. Normally he knew exactly how to handle a situation like this. _That was before you let her under your skin, idiot._

Thirteen studied the kaleidoscope of expressions playing over House's face, emotions and thoughts showing up there and gone again in fractions of a second. After two seconds bordering on infinity he seemed to steel himself. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes and her smile remained as she answered. "Forgot, House, or ignored? And no, you didn't."

He shrugged. "Forgot, ignored, same difference. Then what's this?" he said, gesturing to her outfit. He knew he had to keep conversation going, he'd be lost if it the atmosphere devolved into a pregnant silence. _Dammit, House, not a good mental image for you right now. Quick, things you hate: puppies, nuns, truck drivers called Earl boring you with their life story in the bar. _Much better.

Remy walked past him into his living room, back pack left parked in the hallway, and answered over her shoulder. "Clothes, House. A garment, dress, gown." She walked over the sofa and parked herself, but not before giving House another eyeful. The very formal but enticing looking black gown dropped even lower in the back, involuntarily making House count the number of vertebrae he could make out. "I wore this to the March fund raiser, after Cuddy insisted at least one of our team show up."

House closed the front door and moved to follow her into his living room, heading for the kitchen to get them some drinks; he could use a stiff one. _Actually, isn't that what you're trying to avoid?_

This wasn't going as planned at all, not even his inner monologue would back him up. He braced himself, making an effort to get back into the flow of his usual back and forth. _Maybe lay off the innuendo a bit, though. _"A dress, huh. It's part of one at least. Had I known you were going to show up wearing that back in March, I'd not have cut school. Can I fix you something to drink?" he called back from the kitchen.

Back on the sofa Remy was pleased as punch, it was nice to see House caught off guard for a change. She'd gotten under his skin, alright. "A soda or something for now, I brought some beers to go with the pizza later. You're quiet House, something on your mind?" she asked, having a good idea exactly what was going behind those deep blue eyes.

"I was thinking," House called from the kitchen. "how much I hate puppies, nuns, and guys called Earl." _Come again? _She'd enjoyed his reaction as he opened the door, but had he really gathered his wits about him this quickly? _Well, this is House we're talking about._ "Good for you," she answered as he came back with their drinks and set himself down next to her. "I'm thinking not so good for guys called Earl. Long story?"

House downed about half of his bourbon after he handed her the soda she'd requested. _This would probably be safer if she was twice as deeply inebriated as you._ He made a note to remedy this situation later. "Yeah, I kept telling him to shut up. But apparently if you're called Earl, drive a Mack, have two failed marriages, and find yourself sat next to me in a bar, etiquette is to let it all out. It was positively horrifying, worse than that time I walked in on Chase shaving Cuddy's legs."

This time her eyes bugged out. "You didn't."

"Ah, no I didn't. But I have a good idea what the next rumor around the hospital will be." His usual control started to assert itself again, and he felt more at ease. He just had to make sure he kept his eyes locked on hers, and not on the epic display of cleavage before him. "Speaking of Cuddy, I got you the week off, paid leave. Don't worry, no emergency personal days used up." _Right, and keep talking._

_He did what?_ "Ehm, thanks I guess. I could do with some downtime. So, that's what you had to take care of this morning when you invited me over... how'd you swing that?"

He shrugged. "It was nothing. I just told her that if she didn't, I'd post the video I secretly made of her showering this morning to the internal email system."

Remy coughed, almost choking on her drink. "I hope that was a psych out, Greg." Not that she'd put it past him, to pull a stunt like that.

He grinned. "Of course it was a psych out. But since Cuddles was well aware I'd be more than capable of something like this, she gave in. Personally I don't see the problem, it's not as if she has anything to be embarrassed about. I keep making remarks about her twins for a reason."

Thirteen shook her head and chuckled. "Oh no, you didn't. I think you just went and asked her, and she agreed after giving you some clinic hours, even knowing full well you're passing them on to Kutner or Taub."

House held up his hand. "I plead the fifth." He lowered his hand and took another sip. The same feeling he had this morning overcame him again, this was pleasant. _I was right earlier, she _is_ good people. Almost unbearably sexy looking, but good company. _"Before I forget," he stood up and got his laptop, surfed to a website collective of local diners and handed it over to her. "why don't you order us something to eat while I fill you in on this idea I mentioned earlier, I know you can multi task."

_Yeah, I can multi task really well with your perceptive eyes boring into me like that... not. This is what you get for displaying too much, he doesn't want to let his eyes wander around._ Given his reaction at the door, she couldn't fault him for that, or could she? _Why not, it's not as if you haven't seen him checking out others in great detail._ Others, that had to be the key, he was probably fighting himself to keep some sense of professional decorum. _Great, you've ruined it. You had him open up this morning, and just because you wanted to turn the tables on him for a change, he's completely clammed up again._

House waved his hand in front of her eyes, which focussed on infinity, and she came back to reality finding House's laptop on her lap. "You alright?" he asked, she could hear the concern in his voice. She smiled, glad he hadn't completely shut her out, this House she'd witnessed this morning had really gotten under her skin quickly. "Yeah," she said softly, "just thinking how surreal this situation is. If someone mentioned two days ago we'd be sharing intimate details of our past this morning, then having take out delivered to your place later, I'd have had them committed to Psych for an eval."

She smiled, and House's hard earned composure was almost lost to him again. _What is she doing to me? What is this?_ He thought for a moment if he couldn't have contracted neurosyphilis somehow after all, all this could be General Paresis, but had to dismiss the notion almost as quickly as it occurred to him, it didn't fit.

House nodded. "You and me both. Make mine a large four seasons cheese thingy with shrooms, bell peppers and mince meat?" He paused to think a moment. "Actually, see if you can get them to deliver me two Ruebens."

Remy made the order, got two Ruebens for herself as well, sold on the idea of examining what exactly was so special about them to House. "They taste better when you don't have to get them yourself, I remember. Food should be here within twenty minutes or so." He grinned in response. She set down his notebook and walked to the hallway. "I'm just getting my backpack, got us some imported Belgian beers. Spill, what's the idea?"

House's mind almost blanked again at the sight of her nearly bare back, it was an expanse of creamy skin that seemed to go on forever, much like the leg he could see through the split in the side. _I should ask her to just take it all off, get used to how she looks in the buff. Then at least I might be able to concentrate._ He almost laughed out loud at himself. _Sure, concentrate blood, south of the border. _Not good, he had to put the breaks on his line of thought quickly before everything was derailed. "Nuns!" he called out.

Remy reentered the room, backpack towed in her right hand. Sitting herself down again she frowned in confusion. "Your twenty million dollar idea to improve our department is Nuns... Are you sure you're feeling okay, Greg? You look a bit flushed."

"No! Of course I'm not okay, why'd you have to wear something like that, it's distracting. Why the tease?" He cast his eyes down, hoping to avoid looking at her long enough to gain some semblance of control again.

"Me, a tease? It's not as if you were completely innocent this morning. Half the things you said this morning were laced with a seductive undertone, thank you very much." She chuckled. House like this was endearing, the master charmer had charmed himself into a corner. "Besides, who says I'm a tease. It's only teasing if you don't intend to follow through, I'm not yet decided on that."

He stuck his fingers into his ears. "Lalalala." He took them out again, but kept his gaze down. "That's _so_ not helpful, Remy. I just thought that was our thing." Alluding to the constant innuendo present in the chat they had earlier.

She was surprised at this. "We have a thing now?" Thinking about it she had to conclude that yes, they did indeed have a thing. "I guess we do."

House looked up at her again, their eyes finding and locking on. "Yeah," he said silently. "but what?"

The sexual tension between them palpable, silence descended on them, it wasn't even awkward, but neither knew exactly where to go from here. Remy tried to get them to talk again, opening two of the beers she brought, handing him one and taking a sip herself. "You're supposed to drink these from a glass, they're a bit too heady otherwise. So, your plan... I take it it's not about nuns?"

He took a look at the bottle in his hand, discovered he couldn't read Flemish worth a damn, but picked up on it being 11 volume percent alcohol. _That'll do the trick._ House took a gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's not, nor is it about puppies or guys called Earl. I was listing things I hate to keep my libido from taking over my actions, or you'd not respect me in the morning." He winked, glad to have his mind back to himself again. "I'm not sure what this is," he said, waving his hand between the two of them, "but dancing around it isn't working."

Remy took another sip and shrugged. "It is what it is, it'll sort itself out. When it wants to dance, I'm sure it'll let us know."

Their Ruebens arrived a bit sooner than expected and they sat eating them in companionable silence, taking a sip from their beers now and then.

* * *

With their sandwiches finished House picked up the empty bottle of Belgian liquid fare and studied it, still no closer to mastering the vexing language. "Huh, good stuff. I thought all they did was chocolate and diamonds."

Remy handed him another bottle, opening herself another one as well. "A girl's best friends, diamonds, chocolate, beer. I'm just guessing, I couldn't care less about diamonds to be honest, but I like my beer and chocolate well enough."

House didn't know what else to do except file away the information, it's not as if it required a response. "You know, it's close to nine, and we still haven't gotten to why I invited you over in the first place. Maybe I should just write it down and pass you a memo." He took a sip, looked at the bottle to see it was another kind, something with a hint of some berry or other, quirked an eyebrow and looked back up at her. "Unusual, but palatable."

Thirteen had to laugh at this. "You and writing don't mix, Greg. Remember who does all your charting?"

Greg cracked a smile of his own, pointing at her with the neck of his bottle. "You got me there, point taken. Right then, first off you should know that after I scared Cuddles into giving you the week off, I rescheduled with the donor. I wanted to be certain we could finance this before getting anyone's hopes up, so, to make a long story even longer... I had a webcam meeting with him this afternoon. Deal's closed, just some stipulations to work out once we have tentative board approval."

Remy listened intently, hearing what he was saying and letting it sink in, but all her mind could focus on was one word. _We._ She couldn't help but latch onto this. "We, Greg? We, us, or we the team."

House sighed, scratched the back of his head and rolled his eyes. "Both, but do you mind if _we_ focus on this for a moment, if I get distracted again thinking about the definition of _we_, _we_ would still be here tomorrow morning, me trying to tell you what I'm hoping to accomplish." _That or find ourselves, limbs entwined, not even having made it to the bedroom. _Damn this woman, why had it taken for him until this morning to really see her as more than a competent fellow with a pretty face, at least he could've built a tolerance. _Earl, Earl. Earl! Puppies, bad House!_

* * *

It took him about two hours to explain the plan in sufficient detail to her, they kept getting sidetracked by suggestive remarks back and forth, musings on what ifs, and gulping down some more beer to forget those ifs long enough to continue.

By the time they'd gone through her beer and switched to his stash, both of them were sufficiently enough liquored up that, whilst it took longer to explain, at least he wasn't interrupted as often.

"So to recap," she finally said after a minute or so of silence, ticking points off on her fingers. "One, you've gotten yourself a grant to fund _four_ teams, not just the one we have now."

"Yes." Remy was oblivious to the fact she was leaning over as she spoke, and this meaning that right now, he couldn't give more than reasonably terse answers if he tried. Just what he needed, not only was she perfect, she was perfect as well. _Or if not perfect, then perfect. I think your mind's broken, House. You think? _Before his reaction to her became inescapably obvious he gathered himself. With Herculean effort he sat back, made himself look at her eyes again.

Remy ticked off another point, very much aware of the view she'd given him as well as his response. _Well that settles one thing, squirming in pleasurable agony it is. _"Two, you want Kutner, Taub and myself to head up these new sub-departments, with three fellows of our own."

No longer blinded by her light, he answered a bit more thoroughly. "Yes, with one case a week as per usual. I'll take on three new fellows of my own with a caseload of one patient every two weeks."

Another finger. "Three, we would be department heads in our own right, pretty much, but we'd also still be your fellows, and every second week the three of us rotate through your department, bringing our team with us."

"Well," he said, "sort of. I mean if ever a patient has a higher priority, that would take precedence, or if we find after a while that your team runs as well as this one does now, we'd schedule more time for the Hardy Boys and their team."

House was starting to sober up a bit again. "I mean these likely won't be the final details, but I want this field of endeavor of ours to get more attention. Cuddy's always asking me to come to these shindigs, saying how my name and reputation bring in boatloads of cash. Well, we should bank on it, and I want you guys to work with me on that. Hopefully by the time I do intend to retire, say when I reach Cuddles' age for example, you guys will have enough recognition and pull yourselves."

Remy laughed. "Last thing you want is for Cuddy to come visit you in the old folks' home, asking if you can pretty please attend one of her parties." Both doubled up for a moment at that mental image.

After the laughter subdued some, House ticked off another finger. "Four."

Remy arched an eyebrow. "Four?"

"Four. Foreman would consult each of our departments, or branches, or whatever we'd call it as usual, and run the research project."

Thirteen didn't recall him mentioning this earlier, in the protracted explanation this hadn't come up. Come to think of it, this was the first time he'd mentioned Foreman."Research project, Greg?"

House smirked. "This was the money guy's idea. He wanted us to take a leaf out Google's book, saying all good and well and he'd sponsor this, but he wants to hold a shindig to raise more money. He figured out my adversity to lab techs, and my letting you guys run all the tests. So he tells me, build yourself a private lab for your diagnostics units, gives you less contention on them, means quicker results, means more lives saved... but any time the lab's not used, let your fellows perform life sciences research."

Remy had read somewhere that Google employees had to spend some fifth of their time working on pet projects, she connected the dots. "So Foreman would chair this research committee... you'd probably want this lab to liaise with the university, get them to sponsor some people working on their doctorates."

"See, this is why I like you." House grinned. "Logically the most useful work they could do is try and crack the big ones, things we can't cure or treat. The board of directors and the university should love that. If something comes out of it, split the patents between the hospital and uni, and less patients for us to worry over."

Remy sat thinking this over in silence, and after a while House said aloud what was foremost on her mind. "Who knows, maybe we'll pioneer research that can cure a few congenital diseases ten years from now. Like your Hunt..."

Before he could finish she kissed him senseless, leaving him no air with which to speak, and as much as he'd like to give in to this, he knew he had to break this off. On second thought he just waited until they were both blue in the face, breathing deeply. "Stay." he said.

"You want me to stay the night?" Thirteen asked.

"Yeah," House grinned. "you take the bed, I'll take the sofa." _What? Did I really just say that? _"If what was about to happen is going to happen, I want to be sober." _Well, that's a first._

"I guess..." Remy replied, happy at least he wasn't dismissing her outright. Her eyes began to light up again as she leaned over and ended the sentence, whispering in ear. "I'll have to take care of things myself then."

Leaning back the now familiar tempting smile was on her face. House swallowed hard as she kept standing there for what seemed forever, his mind stuck in a loop, playing the mental image she so easily left behind there.

She stalked off to his bedroom, turning around just before entering it. "You would actually do that, with me in the next room?" House squeaked. Remy shrugged and entered, calling back before she closed the door. "Is that a dare? Night, House."

* * *

As he lay on the sofa, trying desperately not to think of the woman in his bed and failing at it, he let his mind run free hoping that sheer exhaustion would soon claim him. He told himself that next time a fellowship application form was given out, it would come with a check box. _Succubus: Yes/No. _

He started thinking if Foreman was right, that he couldn't have a normal relationship with an attractive woman, so he ended up hiring them. Mulling this over he thought about Remy's words about Amber this morning, how she was practically a carbon copy of himself. Having long come to the conclusion he did have a narcissistic streak to him, he dismissed the notion, if anyone he'd have dated her, right? He hadn't hired Amber, he didn't even have an interest in dating her until... then.

Coming to the conclusion Foreman's hypothesis was flawed he was glad to realize that maybe, just maybe, today had proven there was life after Stacy.

* * *

**Author's note: This concludes the second chapter. Join us next episode to find out what happens when House awakes to the sound of Thirteen in his shower, among other things.**

**edit: As FantasyFreak4Life so aptly described, House is really out of character here, acting much like a teenager on hormonal overdrive. This is true, and for the purposes of this story I'm assuming that having his brain voluntarily electrocuted, then seized, maybe he is in fact hormonally unbalanced a bit at the moment. Add on to that his best friend not talking to him, removing his usual outlet, and you get the above. ;) So not to worry, we will have a more recognizable House back with us in due time.**


	4. Seminal work

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Soundtrack for this chapter: _Undo_ by _Björk__, _as published on_ Vespertine._**

**Disclaimer: I only own the distinctly weird bits that seem out of place.**

**Authors note: First off I owe a debt of gratitude to FantasyFreak4Life who's agreed to beta this fanfic, making a few decisions I had to make in this chapter much easier for me.**

**House and Thirteen's budding relationship takes on more meaning in this chapter. It is my hope that you find I've managed to describe this in taste, but I think I have. Both intercourse and discourse are mostly suggestive in nature. **

**That said I would normally encourage for first time partners to use common sense and protect themselves; in this story however we're dealing with two physicians who are both well aware of the risks, and who are also well aware of each other's normally confidential medical records.**

**Plug: I've posted the beginning of a series of vignettes called Duelogue, a number of situations where different people engage House in verbal sparring. Feel free to check it out.**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Seminal work**

_Singing? Evidently. Who? Where? Remy. Shower._ House's mind went from 0 to 60 in little over a second. Regardless, his mind was running much slower than he'd have liked, not entirely uncommon after overindulging in too little coffee. His back was killing him and he began sorting through his memories of what exactly took place the night before. _That's just insane, why would I turn down something as fine as that?_ He came to realize his leg was throbbing dully, much less of a nuisance than he was accustomed to. _Could be my back hurting like hell, blocking out most of it._ When did he have his last Vicodin?

He fumbled around a bit and recovered the bottle from his pocket, popped the cap before popping a pill and dry swallowing it. Sitting upright and swinging his legs over the edge of the sofa he decided on a quick drink, stood up, picked up his cane, made his way over to the kitchen. _Only dull throbbing, think. Not the coma, no Ketamine this time_. House began to inventory other symptoms and quickly found his change in behavior yesterday standing out in big red neon letters, flashing excitedly, begging him to examine it.

Running a quick self-diagnosis, imagining things and reviewing his mind's prompts in return, he had to conclude that if he had been out of it earlier, he was already doing much better. If Thirteen had been offering right now, he'd have her in his bed before she could say please. Without the ability to run an fMRI and check out his blood work, he decided his brain chemistry was still messed up from getting his noodles fried, screwing with his hormone levels. He told himself he'd get that looked into next time he went to work, right now he had an attractive naked young woman in his shower begging for his attention. _Or if not, she will be soon._

He made his way to the bathroom, pausing outside the door, racking his brain for something to say. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was out of it earlier, and Thirteen had decided she might as well treat herself to a shower before she bolted out of here. _Could've been Wilson, spiking our coffee pot, getting himself some sadistic kind of revenge._ Except Wilson wasn't a sadist; a masochist yes, who else gets a kick out of paying alimony, thrice over.

* * *

Thirteen was enjoying the shower greatly, singing to herself as she recalled yesterday's events. She'd thoroughly enjoyed herself, too bad the night ended so ... anticlimactic. Remy smiled at herself, she was getting as bad as he was with his constant double entendres. Speaking of the handsome devil, his voice carried through the bathroom door. "You decent?"

She looked herself over and shouted back. "Nope, I'd say I'm much better than decent... which you would know yourself by now if you hadn't let me hanging. You coming?" She lathered up herself some more. _A girl can try, perhaps he came to his senses. Shit! Perhaps he came to his senses, decided this was all a massive mistake and wants to throw you out._

House grunted, loud enough to still be audible in shower. "Not yet, as great as the powers of my imagination are, I could use a bit more stimulation."

Thirteen was relieved to hear this, he sounded somewhere between his old self, and the one she met the day before. "I meant are you coming in to join me?"

"Shouldn't that be the other way around, joining first, then coming?" Remy could easily imagine the smirk that was certain to accompany his reply.

_So he wants to play it like that, does he? Fine._ She continued her ministrations, found she could do with a quick trim, the triangular patch she'd carefully styled to point to the good bits was starting to fray lightly around the edges. "Join me in the shower, House..." She prided herself on her grooming, it always allowed her to slip into a relaxing meditative state. _Maybe he likes it retro, could be nice for a change, less maintenance. He'll have to help me relax._

His voice floated into the bathroom again, and she could swear she heard him disrobing. "I usually like to be awake for more than 10 minutes before I shower... it's just _so_ damn wet."

Thirteen sighed loudly, making sure he caught it. "Yeah I _know_, it's been like that ever since last night, thanks to _you_... you coming in, or am I coming out?"

House laughed a good long while at that. "Didn't you come out a while ago? I distinctly remember you telling me about this girl or other. Was it that nurse on General Hospital?"

Remy groaned, how long was he going to keep this up? "Dammit, House, do I have to spell it out for you?" If he didn't join her in the next minute or so, she would take care of business by herself this time, him in the next room or not.

House was goading her some more, answering in mock surprise as he stealthily made his way into the bathroom, ripped the shower curtain aside and stood back taking in the sight, wetting his lips in appreciation. "I didn't peg you as a cheerleader."

Remy was more than pleased at the sight of him, wetting her own lips before she answered. "I wasn't, but I wish you _did_ peg me, against the shower wall... F U C K, come play with me, and make me stay."

He let his gaze wander appreciatively over her features, a sigh of relief escaped her that this time, he didn't seem shy in the least. "Hmmm, nice effort, but I wouldn't give up your day job just yet. Speaking of jobs, you haven't started without me, have you?" His reply as his eyes came to her mound, which she had been lathering up.

Remy started to tease him by teasing herself, her reply barely audible after a gasp of pleasure drifted in his direction. "Not yet, but if you don't get your behind in here with me quickly, I'm going to kick it to tomorrow."

House's eyes darkened with lust even more, he desperately wanted to touch her, have her touch him, but this game of mutual seduction of theirs was too satisfying itself to rush. "Oh, angry sex. You shouldn't say things like that to your boss, I'd just might have to spank you."

She noticed House leaning back against the sink now. _His leg must be starting to bother him. _She wasn't about to call him on it. _He's a big boy, alright._ "Well, I'll try anything once. Just stop toying, and start playing already!"

House's leg was indeed annoying him more and more, the Vicodin not having kicked in yet, and what temporary reprieve seeming to slowly escape him; he was too aroused to pay it mind, Thirteen the sole focus of his attention. "Ah, toys... you'll have to show me your collection one day."

Thirteen let her head hang for a moment and groaned, in frustration as well as pleasure, and continued tweaking her nipples in turn. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

_A little while longer._ "Well I could, but seeing as you're here, where's the fun in that?" He made his way over now, spanked her as promised, then wrapped his arms around her, leaning into her.

Her breath came in short gasps now, she was so turned on she didn't know what to do with herself, prompted him to take over by taking a hand and putting it where she wanted it. "House, just shut the fuck up, will you?" Her lips on his, his on hers, who initiated was the last thing on their minds as they opened their mouths slightly and deepened the kiss.

When both came up for air Remy leaned her head against his shoulder. "I take it you're ready for me then?" He asked, checking for himself just for good measure, never one to completely trust another's observations.

Thirteen bit his shoulder and moaned against it as he removed his fingers and sheathed himself, through sheer willpower she managed to reply. "Yeah, since like forever."

House slowed down a bit, letting her catch some breath. He memorized the little sounds she made now, both relieved and disappointed he let up some. "Sounds like you have it bad if it makes you go all Valley Girl, like, maybe you should have that looked at." House dipped his head lower and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, letting his teeth graze it lightly.

Remy was glad for his purchase, certain her legs would give out any moment now, breath came in ragged gasps. "Well, I know this brilliant doctor." Each word punctuated by a sound that made House almost lose it himself.

"Anyone I know?"

Right now he fancied himself one of the great masters, Remy his canvas, his mind and body the brush, his seminal work nearing completion, one more stroke. "House!"

* * *

After another few rounds of fun and games the two found themselves on the sofa, eating something to keep their energy levels up, paying half a mind to Spongebob Squarepants playing on TiVo. They hadn't bothered to redress, both having the day off, and it wasn't as if Wilson was likely to show up unannounced as he had been prone to do before.

"So," said Thirteen, having barely swallowed another bite of the pancakes she'd made as House played the piano for a bit, "Cameron."

House admired her form, his favorite cartoon barely registering in his peripheral vision. "It's considered rude to talk with your mouth full. What about her?"

Remy smiled her saucy smile. "You didn't complain just now. Cameron, did you..." She trailed off.

House grabbed a bite of his last pancake, it was barely visible under all the maple syrup, and made a point of swallowing it. "Once, two years ago. Also, it is medically impossible for a guy to complain when receiving a hummer, honest. I'd ask for your tuition back."

"I can't fault you for that, she's hot." Thirteen replied, mostly to gauge House's reaction. _Maybe I should proposition her for a threesome for Greg's birthday, assuming this thing is still around by then._

House kept his cool, despite his mind's eye now assaulting him with images of Thirteen and Cameron together, him watching, the three of them together. "If you're a good girl, maybe I'll consider asking her for a threeway for your birthday." He replied, unaware of her exact thoughts, but suspecting she might be thinking along the same lines, his seeds of corruption planted.

_How does he do that?_ She found herself looking for something to say, mouth opening, closing, opening again when she thought she had something, closing it when it escaped her yet again.

"You know," House said, watching her mouth working soundlessly. "I think I have some orange body paint somewhere, if you feel like completing the goldfish look." His trademark brow waggle completed his own look.

She burst out in giggles at the image, House eventually stopped her by covering her mouth with his. "I give up. If we were at the office now, you'd hear the sound of my head thudding against the desk." Thirteen said finally, their foreheads still touching, her mind entertaining her with images of the three of them together, House daubing both of them in body paint in slow sensual movements, a groan escaped her.

House leaned back against his side of the sofa. "Well, you gave it up alright." Waggling eyebrows. "About the office, did I ever tell you how Cuddles got her job? The board said they wanted her, she took it literally, then literally took it; having put out, the rest is history, and here we are. Sadly there aren't many orgies like that at the hospital, I'll have to talk to her about it. Anything to boost morale, I heard Wombat crying the other day."

She was laughing so hard now that she might as well have passed into the ultrasonic, she had no breath left with which to make a sound. Steadying herself and drawing in some deep breaths she averted her gaze, afraid if she met his eyes she would again fall into paroxysm. "Why am I contemplating a relationship with you again?"

House's expression turned instantly serious. A finger on her chin turned her to look at him once more. "You are?"

Thirteen sighed, hoping she hadn't ruined it by her impromptu candor, but the heart wants what the heart wants. "It could use a little less smart mouth, and a bit more making out, but yes." She was uncertain where her sudden conviction came from, this just felt like something she could get used to all too quickly.

House thought for a moment. "I'll show you my smart mouth," He said, kissing her forehead. "Allow," another kiss, her mouth, "this," a nipple, "cunning," the other, "linguist," sternum, "to demonstrate," two more kisses brought him to her belly button, which he then circled briefly with his tongue, "his oratory skills." He pulled her hips to him and dove in.

Thirteen took her time recovering, a few minutes spent in silence, House trailing lazy circles around her belly button with his finger. He just couldn't decide what part of her body he liked best. There was only one thing he could do, lots of follow-up study was required. It might be a lifetime's worth of hard work, but he found himself thinking it might just be worth the sacrifice. House was about to say something when Remy spoke. "You're not freaking out then?"

He wasn't, and strangely it hadn't occurred to him that he should be freaking out. It would've been his reaction a few days ago, his mind would've dismissed a long term connection before it had time to register consciously. "I would have, days ago, but whatever this is, it feels surprisingly good, almost like..." He paused for a moment, looking for the right words. "another shot at happiness." House finished, thinking once more that possibly, just maybe, there was life after Stacy.

Thirteen was thrilled and her eyes lit up, it didn't take long for her mischief to return, both of them too serious for comfort. They would have time to figure out where this went. A twinkle appeared in her eyes again as she said. "I'd be happy for you to get another shot in, Greg."

"And _you_ were saying about _my_ smart mouth?" House chuckled.

Remy didn't miss a beat. "That when you demonstrated your oratory skills, it was a gift that just kept on giving." She'd learned earlier how multi-orgasmic she could actually be.

House got up from the sofa, took a deep bow. "Thank you kindly, I'll be here all night."

He limped over to the piano, a slight wince at the pain in his leg, reached out to the pills he kept there, swallowed one.

His cane lay discarded for the moment, he knew that it wouldn't be long before it became an extension of his body again. A day, two at the most before his neurotransmitter levels were back to normal, bringing agony right along with it, and not the good kind Thirteen had been showing him was still within his reach. Looking back at his private succubus he gave a winning smile, walked over, took her hand and dragged her to his own lair.

* * *

Remy woke, her head still on his chest, to the sensation of House trailing a finger up and down her spine. "What're you thinking about?"

House grinned as she looked up at him. "Natalie Portman, covered in hot grits, naked and petrified."

She blinked. "Seriously?"

House gave her a quick peck on her forehead. "I was thinking how you've seriously ruined her for me now."

Thirteen gave him the best impression of his trademark waggle she could muster. "I'll bring grits next time, the naked I think I can handle as well... I'm not so sure about the petrification."

House thought this through for a moment, then deadpanned. "That's okay, you bring the grits and get naked, I'll supply the wood."

* * *

**A/N: I hope this was as good for you as it was for me (wink, wink, nudge, say no more). I had a blast writing it. Comments and criticisms are of course still welcome.**

**Next episode will see House getting himself examined, just to make sure he's back to his old self, as well as some other bits I hope you'll enjoy. And yes, I think it'll be longer again, on par with the first chapter. Quality over quantity, however, so I can't promise anything. Unless anything drastic happens it'll probably hit the interwebs Tuesday-ish.  
**


	5. Reparations

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Author's note:** First off a big thank you again to my beta FantasyFreak4Life, all reviewers, and the people who've added this to their alert/favorite lists: you all rock.

This chapter is slightly later than originally intended; I'm nevertheless proud to present it to you. Sleep deprivation will do this to a man, it'll also make him write some fairly absurd stuff like "Darwin" and "Cameron Too", two one shots I spawned unto the interwebs yesterday. You can get to them from my profile, of course.

**Soundtrack for this chapter: **_Not the Doctor_ by _Alanis Morisette_, as published on _Jagged Little Pill_.

**Disclaimer: **I'm still not under contract to write this stuff, sigh.

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Reparations**

Key. Lock. Turn. Click. Wilson was relieved to find House hadn't changed his locks. He'd thought of calling before he dismissed the idea, knowing that House would never pick up. Finally having come the conclusion that it was him, James Wilson, who had to offer the olive branch, he'd found that House wasn't at the office. _What else is new? If he can avoid work, he does, and they resolved the last case inside of two days. I'd stay at home as well, having that cushy arrangement he has._

Wandering into the living room he saw signs of what could be a party, definite indicators of a female presence. Right now Wilson couldn't be bothered finding out if she was still here, there was only one kind of woman to ever visit when House wasn't seeing someone.

The bedroom door was ajar, he could see House lying back, his face a contorted mask forewarning of impending climax. Wilson couldn't care right now, he'd come to make amends, he wasn't going to back down just because he had someone with him, playing hide and seek. "A hooker, House? I see a leopard doesn't change its spots."

House groaned, glaring daggers at Wilson for interrupting them. Remy replied from under the blankets, making her way back up to the top whilst ascertaining she kept herself covered. "I resent the implication of that."

"Thirteen, since when?" Wilson was surprised he hadn't known about this development. Granted it had been about two weeks since House and he had last spoken, the very situation he had come here to try and remedy. _This is new._

House wasn't in the talking mood, how _dare_ his so-called _friend_ interrupt him like this, right in the middle of the best ever head he'd had. "_Leave_, we're busy." It wasn't as if House hadn't made an effort to get Wilson to talk again, two weeks worth of trying to get conversation going again, and _now_ he wanted to talk? Death was too good for him.

Wilson saw that Thirteen was sitting up finally, clutching the bed coverings on her half somewhat fiercely in an effort to preserve some kind of dignity in his clearly unwanted presence. He knew he had two people to apologize to now, but first things first, putting some sense of urgency in his voice he started over. "House, I came to talk."

House wasn't phased by this, if the spoken word had been tangible, and glands could excrete liquefied sarcasm as they passed out of his mouth, they'd have been literally dripping with it right now. "You know _what_, Cancer _Boy_? Why don't _you_ go _talk_ to your best _friend_, because obviously, that _isn't me._"

He was readying himself to give Wilson the beating of a lifetime, not just on his own account, but also for discovering Remy in this compromising position. _If this freaks out Remy and ends this thing between us, so help me Vesalius, I will _end_ Wilson._

Wilson hadn't come here all this way for nothing, he'd already made a scene by interrupting something very private, and to him slightly confusing. He'd find out how long that had been going on another time, right now he had some serious pleading to do if House would even so much as speak with him. "House, come on, please listen..."

House was so hot with anger, it wrapped around the scale to manifest itself as an icy fury, ice dripping much like sarcasm had earlier, the temperature rising as he spoke to come to a steaming crescendo. "No, _you_ listen. All I have for you if you don't get the fuck out of here _this minute_ is a cane with your name on it, and I won't _hesitate_ to shove it where the sun don't shine _so hard_, it'll knock the laminate right off your disgustingly white _teeth_." He almost bit his tongue off as he bit the last word out through clenched teeth.

Wilson slumped his shoulders, knowing he wasn't getting anywhere, not without a third party to help knock some sense into House; he gave Thirteen a pleading look, hoping she would play Cuddy to his... well, Wilson.

_Yeah, right. Interrupt us, call me a hooker, then expect help? As if. _Remy scowled at him. "Hey, don't look to _me_ for support. _You_ don't even have the _decency_ to turn around so we can get dressed, _you've_ been the jerk the past two weeks, _not _House, _need_ I go on? Besides, I think you have an apology with my name on it somewhere for calling me a whore. If not I'll _remove_ said cane and shove it back down your throat _so fast_ it'll make your head spin, and being fresh out of exorcists at the moment as we are, that'll _really hurt_ like a sonofabitch..."

If House had respected her before, he positively adored her now. He'd been so turned on by her volley at Wilson it wasn't funny, particularly in the quandary they found themselves in. Wilson had to go, pronto, and since chewing him out didn't seem to work, he'd see how Wilson felt being on the receiving end of a silent treatment. He looked over at Thirteen, who was still glaring daggers of her own at Wilson. _What did I ever do to deserve this woman? As befuddled as I was earlier, I was right about one thing, she's perfect._

Wilson looked from Thirteen to House, and back, neither looking the least bit happy with him, to say the least. He turned around. "My sincere apologies, Dr. Hadley, I didn't know it was you at the time. I'd apologize to House if he'd listen, but that's not in the cards it seems."

With Wilson no longer playing the unwanted voyeur, House pulled Thirteen in for a scorching kiss, showing just how much he appreciated what she'd said to Wilson.

"An interesting way you have of starting an apology, bursting in and comparing your friend to a large horny cat." She whispered, loud enough to make sure Wilson caught it. Thirteen sneaked a hand to cup House's appreciation for her a moment to let him know she wasn't going anywhere just yet, and that things were fine between them, then got out to dress, putting on the first things she saw that would fit her, double time.

With Wilson still turned around House kept looking at Remy as she dressed, feeling another pang of loss for the broken contact, hoping they could resume their previous activities sooner rather than later. "Thirteen, has that tumorous excuse for a doctor left yet, because I'd like to get back to what we were doing."

She shook her head in silence, gave House a quick peck, and left for the living room to leave them to talk, this was their battle.

Seeing Remy pass him as she entered the living room, Wilson turned around to face House once more, deciding to appeal to House's love for coming to beneficial arrangements. "House, please..." He begged. "I'll buy you lunch for a month if you'd at least listen long enough to let me make amends. Deal?"

House was still looking at the side of his bed that Remy now left empty, his hand soaking up the warmth of her on his sheets that was quickly dissipating; Wilson had another thing coming if he thought House would give in, particularly after this stunt. "Yeah, right." He snorted. "As if you _never_ buy me lunch. And is that what my life is worth to you, two weeks of lunch? Because I seem to recall risking it _twice_ to save Amber."

Wilson abandoned all sense of dignity as he pleaded with House once more. "House... Please, I'm sorry."

_This has gone far enough. _House turned to face Wilson again, eyes ablaze in icy anger once more. "Me too," He spat, his gaze daring the oncologist to interrupt him as he finished. "for trying to save Amber, because it's become _painfully_ clear to me the past weeks how you don't give a _rat's ass_ about people close to you, and people call _me_ the misanthrope." He shook his head. "Get out of my sight, you make me sick."

Everyone had a breaking point, and this was Wilson's. "That's low, even for you." He spat back in anger, then stormed out of the bedroom vowing never to speak to the man again, because whatever friendship they once shared, this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Making his way to the front door he found Thirteen, the unintended witness to this exchange, and tried to calm himself down some. "He's being impossible." He shouted. _So much for calming down, but that godforsaken cripple _really _knows how to push a man's buttons... but then of course you've known him for _how_ long?_ He took a few deep breaths to collect himself, spoke again in a softer voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout... but he really knows how to draw the blood from under one's nails, on top of that he's being impossibly obstinate."

Thirteen shook her head, in answer as much as at Wilson's appearance. "No, he's being House. You've really hurt him deeply, betrayed his friendship, and you know he doesn't give that lightly. If you really want to start making it up to him, you can start by keeping your mouth shut about finding me here."

Wilson knuckled his eyes, sighed, straightened his shoulders. "Done. He makes you happy then, does he?"

Remy didn't need to think about the answer to that. "Yeah, he does. And I'd like to think likewise." She paused for a moment, but Wilson could feel it wasn't his turn to speak yet, and she soon continued. "You have a lot of groveling to do before he'll even consider changing his mind about you, he was miserable without you to talk to. On the flip side it allowed us to open up to each other, mixed blessings." Wilson gave a nod at that, kept silent.

She closed the distance between them, lay a hand on his shoulder, squeezed it in comfort. "But don't you think House or I would give this happiness up gladly if we could turn back time, as much as that would pain us? You've really underestimated the lengths he goes through for someone he calls friend. To be honest, I think he was within his rights to give you a hell harder upbraiding than you got in there."

Wilson covered her hand, squeezed a thanks, and she withdrew it. He cleared his throat and answered. "No, you're right. I know I was a jerk. I was angry, grieving, he was there, a convenient target. I don't deserve him as a friend after the way I've treated him. Not much of an excuse, I know."

Thirteen inclined her head slightly. "That, and directed at the wrong person. Give him some time to cool off, then you can make it up to him."

"Thanks, Dr. Hadley, you've obviously been a better friend to him recently than I was." Wilson said, feeling deflated; he made his way to the front door, deep in thought.

House, having followed this discussion unseen as Wilson had been facing the entrance, stood in the door jamb. "Fine, truce. You can start by buying me a case of my favorite drink, running my clinic duty and getting me lunch next month, and helping Cuddy to see my way about something."

Wilson turned around, surprised, relieved, a little bit offended at the cost of the peace offering House demanded. "Wow, that's all? Or can I wash your car as well during that month?" His reply came, jokingly.

House upper lip twitched almost imperceptibly, but Wilson picked up on it with ease. "Well, since you're offering, two coats of wax, the good stuff."

Remy didn't know what to make of this, they went from not-so-cold war to what could be called pleasant in moments, this friendship of theirs ran even deeper than she'd suspected, she could tell now it truly had no limits. But then, with House taking the risks he had on Amber's behalf, she guessed she'd already known this. "So all it takes is for both of you to let off steam? Would that everything worked like your friendship, we could solve global warming and conflict overnight." She interjected, laughing.

House scowled at Wilson, but his eyes betrayed him, he was all too happy they were on speaking terms. If anything it again deepened his respect for Thirteen; she had quite clearly seen through both of them, and in a way that didn't leave him feeling vulnerable. "Oh, I'm not quite done steaming, thank you. I think Jimmy may find himself running to the bathroom at inopportune times for a while. He took our friendship for granted, and _that_ bothered me the most about the whole situation. I won't be so forgiving next time, and I'm not entirely done forgiving this time either."

Wilson agreed, nodding, knowing better than to press his luck. Hell, it felt like House offered his own olive branch, telling him in advance to expect something. "You're giving me a heads up on using Castor Oil?"

"No, it could be something worse, I'll think of something suitable." House replied, smirking.

"While you do, I do have a little something for you." Wilson said, handing House a still-shaped bottle of 17 year old Glengoyne 'Old Style' he'd brought with him. "So, Cuddy, what about her?"

"I've overheard, completely accidentally of course," House said, inclining his head at Wilson acknowledging the impressive gift, "that Cuddy plans to have both Dr. Hadley and myself up in front of the medical review board."

"What?! Why?" Wilson was outraged at the thought. "It's not about Amber, is it, because if she doesn't see you went beyond the call of duty there..."

House shrugged. "Well, that's partly it. Remember that bus driver? Thirteen and I ignored a direct order from Dr. Hitler to save the man, and we _did_ save him." It was easy to see House was still sensitive about that particular subject, Cuddy really got on his nerves at times, a feeling he knew was reciprocated but chose conveniently to ignore. "If it had been up to Cuddles the man would be fertilizer right now. Never mind that she didn't have a clue as to what was wrong with the man."

Remy tried to calm down House as much as herself, being up in front of a medical review board wasn't a joke, even the times it was mostly a formality. "I made my own decision to help the man, House, and it evidently was the right one. The review board will surely see it our way."

"That is not the point, Remy!" House burst at her, instantly mellowing when he saw her reaction, she'd almost forgotten there was a side of House who raised his voice with her. "You already have enough of a blemish on your career just by way of working with me, didn't Foreman ever tell you why he came back?"

She stood her ground. "I'm a grown woman, House, I can fight my own battles, just as you don't need me to fight yours."

Wilson became a little uncomfortable now the exchange had turned into a lover's quarrel. "I think I'll leave you guys alone, catch up later at the hospital."

House turned to Wilson. "You're not going anywhere until you promise to run interference. Make sure Cuddy doesn't convene that review board." He then addressed Thirteen, his expression softening as he did. "Remy, listen. As your boss I'm ultimately responsible for your actions; don't set yourself up to have your career ruined before it even started."

Remy shook her head, closed her eyes a moment, took a breath. "Caveat amator, Greg. You're trying to protect me as my boss, or my lover? Because both kinds of relationship are ultimately about trust, and I need you to trust me to take care of myself."

"Lover beware, yes. I need you to trust me that this would be career suicide, if there's any fallout, let me take it. It's not as if I'm not on a first name basis with the review board already, but unlike you I've built a certain reputation they can't ignore, they'd give me a slap on the wrist at most." House replied with some sense of urgency, hoping she'd pick up the point.

Thirteen just stood there, stewing in silence, divided on the matter. As an independent woman she found herself angry with him for trying to protect her like that, but as his lover she was happy for the same reason.

Wilson took the silence as his cue. "How on earth do you expect me to stop Cuddy on this? She's almost as stubborn as you are, House."

House smirked. "Well, that's your problem, Jimmy, isn't it? But you could remind her that before she was an administrator, she was a doctor first. We do what it takes, and the only thing that got hurt in the process was her damned pride. She took the same Hippocratic oath we did, so playing pencil pusher with someone's life on the line is just hypocritical." After letting out a frustrated sigh, he continued. "I don't know, you figure it out. Just make sure she doesn't take it out on Thirteen here, I have big plans for her."

Wilson barked a laugh at that last bit. "Yeah, I almost got an eyeful of that."

Thirteen glared at Wilson. "I think what House is trying to say is that he has expansion plans for the department, and I was already a part of those plans before we got together, thank you very much."

Wilson, not having been privy to these plans didn't know what to make of it; he was certain that House would tell him at some point, now that they were speaking again.

"So we're still together, good. If it makes you feel better, I'm protecting my own interests as well by looking out for you, as your boss as well as your lover." House said to Thirteen, smiling, his eyes alight.

Thirteen sighed. _Of course we're still together, we only just started... but _what_ a take off. _Her eyes had that glint to them again that House had come to interpret as her mischievous side. Remy matched a smile and told him, half-serious. "I want you to be certain about all this, because I don't want to have you wake up next to me five years from now, realize you've wasted the best years of your midlife crisis on me, and trade me in for an even younger model. I don't want you to come and resent me."

House was touched by the sentiment, already fairly certain he wouldn't trade her in, ever. Not if he had anything to say about it. In spirit with her own half-serious statement, he waggled his eyebrows and quipped. "You have a sister, by chance?"

Remy glared at him half-heartedly for a moment, being able to tell he wasn't serious. He strode over, embraced her and kissed her neck, she let him.

Wilson made his goodbyes cheerfully. "I think that's my cue to exit, stage left. I'll leave you lovebirds to skip to the hot make up sex while I see what I can do about Cuddy."

He closed the remainder of the distance to the front door, called out over his shoulder just before he opened the door. "Don't ruin it this time, House, if what I saw here is anything to go by, she's perfect for you."

House smiled against Remy's neck, gave it another peck, and whispered to her. "Don't I know it."

* * *

House weaved in and out of traffic on his motorcycle, cane strapped to the side, riding on autopilot. He was thinking about the conversation he'd had with Remy after Wilson left, just before she went back to her own apartment for the remainder of her days off. They touched briefly on House's change in demeanor and personality earlier, how that had helped them open up to each other. She hadn't quite said it, but he could hear her thinking about what this meant for them as a couple. He'd told her that was neither here nor there, _that_ had been him at the time, and he had no regrets whatsoever about hooking up with her, that in fact it might've been one of the more sane decisions he'd made so far in his life. Making arrangements to see each other soon, she'd left for her own place.

After this moment of philosophizing on the nature of self, House had been alone again, trimmed his beard, preparing to go to work. It was then he thought how much of himself he actually saw reflected in Remy as he gazed into the mirror. Impressed with her sharp tongue and even sharper wit, as had been demonstrated again in Wilson's presence, he didn't feel ashamed by what he told her that faithful morning, she was his most promising fellow. Not quite as good as Foreman yet, but so much potential. Ah yes, Foreman...

Foreman was also his most promising fellow, a dichotomy his mind found a way around soon enough. House saw different parts of himself reflected in Foreman, the unwillingness to compromise and drive to get things done no matter who's feelings it hurt. Still a promising diagnostician in his own right, but a slightly different caliber just the same; Foreman's real strengths lay elsewhere, in his toughness of character.

House felt again that brief surge of guilt he had felt when he'd heard that Foreman almost couldn't find another job after working with him, and Foreman's eventual dismissal from the one job he had gotten himself. Though House would never say as much to Foreman in as many words, it had been partly that guilt, and relief he'd come back, which had helped House overcome the anger he felt towards Foreman for quitting to begin with. House had already seen Eric Foreman becoming a veritable House Jr., but talented as he may be, without the same caliber in diagnostic medicine, he could never get away with the same things House could, never build enough of a name for himself.

It was time for House to make a show of faith to Foreman, letting the younger man know he was appreciated, no matter how much House disparaged him on an almost daily basis. Thinking to himself that the position he had in mind for Foreman would play to the young man's strengths, he knew who he had to see now as he neared the hospital.

* * *

"Leave us." House told the pair of assistants as he walked into the operating theater where Foreman was performing a delicate procedure. The assistants shared a shocked look at both the interruption, as well as the blatant request. House looked at the bank of monitors, assessed the patient's condition, and declared once more. "Leave us. The patient's stable." After a few interminable seconds, Foreman nodded to them and they left.

Foreman halted his work and shook his head at House. "Why don't you go bother Wilson, word on the street is you're back on speaking terms."

"Word on the street," House scoffed. "this isn't the _hood_, Foreman. And no, I came to see you specifically. I need you to do two things for me. First off, I need an fMRI off the records, outside Cuddy's knowledge."

"And you can't ask... sorry, this is you we're talking about... you can't _order_ Kutner, Taub or Thirteen to handle these things?"

House shrugged. "I could, but I'm asking you, or telling if that makes you feel more comfortable."

"House, you realize that's a tall order, right?" Foreman paused, thinking it over. "In fact, it seems like the ideal thing to ask one of the ducklings, get them acquainted with side channels."

"_Yes..._" House replied, putting some impatience in his voice. "but I need _you_ to do it. I gave Thirteen the week off, she's not here for the next couple of days, and I don't trust the Hardy Boys with this kind of guerrilla tactic like I do you."

"And you gave Thirteen the week off, why?" Foreman asked, but before House had a chance to reply went all wide-eyed in disbelief and exclaimed. "No way! You horny old dog. I don't believe it."

House was inscrutable. "Yes way, believe it. Which brings me to the second thing I need you to do for me. I need you to deflect any unwanted questions regarding Thirteen and I until we're ready to go public. I _trust you_ to do this." He finished, putting an emphasis at the end.

Foreman didn't know what to say, blinked a few times to assure himself this wasn't a dream, then replied. "You do realize this is possibly an even taller order, House?"

House nodded, smirked. "Yes, but as I said earlier, I trust you can help me out here. I'll make it worth your while, promise."

If anything this was even weirder, House offering an incentive beyond not getting chewed out for something. "Are you sure you're okay, House?"

House broke out into a wide grin. "Yeah, never better in fact, in part thanks to Thirteen. Thanks for the interest. The fMRI in question is for me, mostly to make sure I'm back to my old self, albeit a little more cheerful."

Eric was stunned for a moment, this was a lot of personal and confidential information he'd been entrusted with here, with no safeties in place on House's side to keep him from making things very difficult for his mentor. He scrutinized House, eyes narrowing, wondering what game the man was playing.

"Ah, come on. If you do, I'll let you in on a secret." House went on.

Eric raised a singular eyebrow. "Another one?" House just smiled a mysterious smile until Foreman pressed him. "Go on, then."

House told Foreman that he'd been considering a lot of things lately, since Amber's demise, and that as far as Foreman's concerned he feels it's a little his fault that Foreman's career is effectively at a standstill, after years of having drilled Foreman to be more and more like himself, it had more or less limited the younger man's chances at a career of his own. Granted, House told him, working with him gave Foreman some prestige, but wouldn't he rather like to trade on his own name in the future?

"Because," House said. "if things work out as I've planned, and I'm reasonably certain they will, there'll be a new position with your name written all over it, one you can trade on. In fact, I'll be heading Cuddy's way in a moment, provided you agree on this."

* * *

House stormed into Cuddy's office, conveniently ignoring the presence of her secretary and bellowed. "Lucy, I'm _home!_"

Cuddy groaned, waved away the secretary and stared House down. "What is it this time, House?"

House leaned forward in an attempt to peek down Cuddy's blouse. "What makes you think there is something? I just came by for my daily dose of the twins."

She shook her head, silently appealing to any force in the universe whatsoever that would hear her plight. "Wilson came by earlier. Funniest thing, he came to tell me to back off of Thirteen and you, that I should cancel a hearing? Now I _could_ ask you how it is that you knew about it, but I am reasonably certain I don't want to know the answer. What _did_ interest me was that _Wilson_ came and asked me this, which is an encouraging sign."

House said nothing at first, then nothing for a while longer, looked around a bit before sitting himself down, feet up. "Wake me up when you have a point to make, Cuddles?"

"_My point, House!"_ Lisa all but shouted. "Why are you having Wilson run interference on behalf of Thirteen? And don't tell me it's because she backed you when you went against my decision on that bus driver. I've known you long enough to know that doesn't earn _this_ kind of loyalty with you."

"Oh for crying out loud, woman!" House bit back. "Just say what you have to say and get it over with, I have things to do."

"_That_ is exactly the kind of problem I have with you, House. I can't keep a handle on you, it makes me look like a weak executive in front of the board. Wilson convinced me to let Thirteen off the hook, as she acted on your order, _this time._ She won't be so lucky next time around. And as for _you, House!_ The buck stops here. I sometimes wonder why I even hired you in the first place."

House laughed. "Probably because you were hoping for a repeat performance of our college fling, _Lisa._ But you should've thought about all this _before_ you gave me tenure, no? How long have you known me? I mean come on, it's not as if you didn't know _exactly_ what you were getting yourself into when you hired me. Where's the Wombat, by the by, I'd expected to interrupt him shaving your legs... I'm actually disappointed a bit."

Cuddy glared at him, and bit the words. "_That is enough from you, House!_ Why must you continue to make a fool of Chase when he isn't even your fellow any longer? I mean, _honestly!_"

House swung his legs off of her desk, sat up, shrugged. "Maybe I believe in equality, as a feminist that should appeal to you."

"Right, so explain why you went to bat for Thirteen then, shouldn't you be floating a rumor about Cameron and her getting it on in every supply cabinet, just for good measure?"

House grinned. "Some are more equal than others?"

Cuddy pointed at him. "Here's what I think, House. _I_ think that you're seeing her, that you've lost your objectivity when it comes to the girl, and she _is_ very much _a girl_." Shaking her head she sighed. "Why do you do this, House? You know I can't condone something like that, she's your employee for Pete's sake."

House leaned over, radiating nonchalance. "Well, _Pete_ gave us his blessing. Not that it matters, since you're going to drop the subject, just like you're going to drop the idea of having me in front of a medical review board."

"And_ why_ would I do such a thing?" Cuddy had to give it to him, he had a lot of nerve, but this time, she wasn't backing down.

"_Because_," House said, stressing the first word. "I come bearing gifts." His eyes lit up, as if in on a private joke.

He began to give her a condensed version of his plans for the diagnostic medicine department and the lab that would at some point be built to accompany it, the research project, the grant he'd been given on the express condition that _he_ oversee the entire operation.

The fund raiser that would eventually be held if things went as planned was mentioned as well, and how he'd be voluntarily attending, nay co-hosting it with his sponsor. House did have a condition for Cuddy to be included. Apart from making sure his plans got board approval, she was to approve of his relationship with Thirteen off the record until they were ready to come forward, after all the plans had been set into motion, then officially sign off on it.

Cuddy's expression went from suspicion to outright incredulity, to mild interest, to wondering who this impostor was, finally to the look of a young girl on Christmas morning having received all the gifts she'd asked off Santa. And all she could utter was a single word. "Fuck!"

House grinned at her. "So that means you're on board and you think this will largely be rubber stamped by the board of directors?"

She collected herself immediately after the uncharacteristic outburst. "You kidding, House? They'll be having a field day with this, but as far as I'm concerned... consider this, and your 'condition' granted. The rest, some long overdue reparations to me. After this we're even, _understood?_"

* * *

**Author's note: **Well, we've come to the end of yet another chapter. I trust that you've enjoyed it. If not feel free to hit me over the head with a large trout, and if you did enjoy it, likewise, my innate Python fan always gets a kick out of it. What's that you're telling me, this is _not_ the ministry of silly walks?

I'll be slowing down a bit from here on out, to an update every 4 days or so, just to make sure I don't start running on empty. I'm in it for the long haul with this story.

No sneak preview for the next episode as of yet. Rest assured, I do have a fair idea of where I'm headed with it.

p.s. For those who didn't get "so help me Vesalius", he wrote this rather impressive text on anatomy back in the day. And yes, that's an understatement. Go and look him up on Wikipedia, you know you want to.


	6. Expectations

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Author's note: **This might be the weakest chapter so far. Not a whole lot happens here, but it's all needed to set the stage for things to happen in later chapters, so I ask you to indulge me this time. That said, while it's not the best chapter in the fic, it's still reasonably good, I think. Could just be me, though, but I liked the preceding chapters better. I'll leave it up to you to decide that for yourself, naturally.

**Thanks: **As always thanks go out to my beta FantasyFreak4Life, as well as my reviewers.

**Soundtrack for this chapter: **_Do You Have a Little Time_, by _Dido_, as published on _Life For Rent_.

**Disclaimer: **Anyone know where I can find one at a discount? I think I wore the other ones out.

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Expectations**

Click. Click. Click. Thirteen lay on her couch, draped over House's chest, zapping channels for something at all interesting to watch; admitting defeat finally when 'reality' show after show filled the screen, she'd queued up one of the episodes of The Office she still had on her personal video recorder, a more modern contraption than Greg's own TiVo that also streamed music from her PC, allowed her to browse the internet, and probably sported a whole host of functions that weren't immediately obvious.

He'd look into that another time, right now all he was interested in apart from Remy was vegging a bit, perhaps catching a bit of this tv-show to see if it was worth a spot on his TiVo schedule, whether it fit his rather eclectic taste. When you consciously limited your viewing choices to SpongeBob, General Hospital, and the occasional documentary or instructional video from the AMA, finding something that would be a worthy addition was not a task undertaken lightly, not in the world of Greg House to be certain.

House had initially gone over to Thirteen's apartment after the talk he'd had with Cuddy to fill her in on the good news, but he'd come to find that he just enjoyed hanging out with her, whether or not they were fooling around. Halfway through the episode Remy moved her head a bit, looked up into his eyes. "Greg?"

House, reasonably certain now he'd program The Office on his TiVo, at least in order to check it out more thoroughly, replied without missing a beat. "That's what she said."

Thirteen grinned. "Right, I did. Moving away from the exciting world of moving paper for a moment, do you mind me asking something related to our line of work?"

"Nah, go ahead." House replied, pausing playback.

Remy took some time to phrase the question. "How do you come to a diagnosis? I mean I look at the white board, and I see matching conditions pop up in my mind's eye, I cross reference, move things around, then come to a ... probabilistic answer, I guess."

"Hard to answer, that question." Greg took some time of his own to come up with something he hoped made more sense to her than it did to himself. "I think at one point I did things mostly in the same way, applying the law of parsimony, weeding things out; over time I think it's become more of an intuitive leap, an unconscious process. I can't for the life of me tell you _how_ I come to a diagnosis, that is I can't describe the process by which I arrive at the answer; I can only tell you what makes me believe it is _this_, and not something else once I have, and then I'd effectively be ticking off the same points you have 'pop up' as such."

Thirteen moved a bit, decided to sit cross-legged at his feet, massaging them in turn. "So... when you say 'it doesn't fit', you're really saying it's not a pretty answer so to speak. Quoting Keats' _Ode on a Grecian Urn_, '_Beauty is truth, truth beauty'._ Meaning the answer has to be aesthetically pleasing to be the right one."

House popped a Vicodin before he answered. "Verily, my dear Watson. Like I said, Occam's Razor. In fact I have a t-shirt somewhere, from back when I was in college and deeply interested in all things philosophical, the print reads _'What would William of Ockham do?'_. I think next to my piano, motorcycle, Vicodin stash and my mind, of course, it's probably among my more prized possessions." He'd found that since he got together with Remy, he only needed between half and two-thirds of his usual daily regimen, which in a way made sense to him; his increased level of happiness had higher than normal levels of endorphins coursing through his system, which was among other things a natural analgesic.

Remy had noticed the change as well, happy to take credit for it; a brilliant brain such as his deserved to be at peace once in a while, and not have its pain centers be at the forefront of its operation. "I have a t-shirt myself that holds a similar importance to me, it reads _'Relax, everything is deeply intertwingled'_, despite being a phrase coined by a computer scientist, it just feels... _right_, for lack of a better word." In turn he made her feel connected to the world, her usual sense of not belonging anywhere was starting to melt away, her defensive walls slightly lowered, in his presence at least.

Greg nodded. "At a fundamental level all things are interconnected, so I can see where you're coming from." A grin formed on his face before he leaned over and started tickling her a short while. "Right now, I feel very connected to you."

After the giggles had subsided, a brief kiss exchanged, Remy continued, wanting to figure out this man whom she now saw in an entirely different light. "It makes sense, though; your unique talent in diagnostic medicine is not unlike that of those computer programmers you hear about sometimes, where they take one look at a piece of programming and can instantly spot an error, it just doesn't look right to them somehow. Hearing them talk about it, they also mention that good code is beautiful, simple, pure. Mathematicians and physicists likewise, if the equation doesn't please some aesthetic sense they have, if it isn't _elegant_, it's likely incorrect."

House's eyes unfocused for a moment, his face pensive. It had been too long since he'd given himself over to serious discourse on the fundamental nature of things. "Makes you think, huh? How things like mathematics, physics, computer programming, and our own differentials, which are all innately logical, still heavily appeal to our creativity; that part of us gets to be the final judge, we can think things through until we're blue in the face, but until we come to the purest expression we can find, it's all for naught."

"Not all for naught, the journey itself is equally important to the destination." She winked, platitude as it was, it was nevertheless a truth.

He focussed again, beamed a smile at Remy, happy that he could indulge in this hobby of his with her; and for a split second it was as if at some level he could see the most basic expressions of energy in the universe surround the two of them, strengthening whatever tied him to her, her to him, their uncountable strings resonating in synchronicity. For the first time in a good long while he found himself... _content, at peace, in the zone, devoid of superfluous thought._

"Speaking of journeys," he said, his mind speaking for him from his place of quietude, "hows about we go away together for a long weekend, when all's approved and the new offices are being constructed. I'll let you pick the destination." His mind had surprised him, with its impromptu offer of a getaway, yet as his 'gut' was almost invariably right about things, he took his time thinking it through instead of hitting the breaks and backtracking on the statement. _It'll be 3 or 4 months at the soonest, what with board approval, financial arrangements, architects, construction bids. And what the hey, if this thing between us feels this good or better at the time... no, not a thing, call it what is it: relationship._

Remy was surprised at the offer, which literally came out of nowhere; she'd become reasonably adept at reading House over the past year, even more since they got together, and this... it was as if the question had a mind of its own. She considered her answer, seeing as he'd not rescinded the offer half a second later when his analytic brain kicked back in, and came to a similar conclusion on when that long weekend would take place. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

The two of them chatted about odds and sods for a while as if they'd been doing this since the dawn of time, then trailed off into an easy silence as they watched another Office episode.

Out of nowhere a question came to Remy. "Greg, is that why you dislike humanity in general? All things being fundamentally connected, you resent them as manifold amplified manifestations of the parts you dislike about yourself and find hard to change, just as you can't improve upon the human race except by curing one individual at a time."

Greg blinked, not in shock entirely, but close to it. "Wow! And to think that Stacy still didn't understand me so thoroughly after 5 years, I wonder if I can keep any secrets from you even a month from now. That's not entirely it, though. I mean while that's indeed part of the reason, there's more to it."

She leaned over, and draped herself over him again, like a comforting human blanket. "If you trust me with it, I'd really like to know... I'd like to know _you, _the you behind the snark, the you behind the passion with which you make love... _you._"

House thought deeply, and nodded eventually, locked his eyes with hers as she tilted her head up again. Whether or not they'd intended to, they'd gone into this relationship hard and fast, he felt at ease around her, a rare quality shared by about a handful of people. Deciding that her x-ray vision would uncover the truth before long, he agreed to tell her. "Okay. But you'll have to tell me something about yourself as well that nobody else knows about."

Remy lazily trailed her finger across his jawline as she spoke, taking in the texture of his perma-stubble. So many things had changed on her side as well, she'd never considered sleeping with a bearded man before, let alone getting involved with one more deeply, and yet here she was. "When I'd just started in college, there'd been an accident close to my dormitory, and as I walked over, the police was directing people around it with the usual nothing-to-see-here; thinking I was in no particular rush as I was on my way back, I wanted to see if I could offer some assistance, studying medicine as I was."

"Right, then what?" House asked, curious to see where this was going.

"So this five-oh comes up to me, repeating the party line, and I just couldn't help myself, told him. 'If there's nothing to see here, what are you guys doing here cordoning off the area?' He asked me if I was trying to be funny, so I told him of course not, I wasn't _trying_. Apparently it's a given for officers of the law not to have a sense of humor, no matter where they're from."

House smirked, amused at the image now painted in his mind's eye. "And you found yourself in lockup for the night, to think over your sins."

Her eyes gained that particular highlight again, she was equally amused. "Pretty much, yeah. At least that's how it was supposed to go down. The kicker is that this young female officer that was to escort me back to the station took a shine to me, let me off in exchange for my phone number."

"No way, now you're just making things up."

She lifted her head up a bit in order to shake it. "S'truth, that's the girl I was telling you about that morning, the one I dated in college."

"Hmmm, hot female officer, hot female nurse from General Hospital... I'm having trouble deciding whether or not my mind should edit this memory as I commit it." His eyes darkened with lust as he pulled her in, saluting her with his lips.

They broke away minutes later at Remy's insistence, before both of them got heated up to the point of spontaneous self-combustion and were no longer able to contain themselves. "You're not getting off that easily."

House barked a laugh. "Right, not if you're pushing me away halfway through making out."

She let her head fall back against his chest, a groan reverberating through him. "I knew it the moment I'd said it... You were going to tell me the other parts that account for your dislike of humanity."

House brushed his lips across her forehead ever so lightly before he leaned back again, trailing his fingers through her hair. "Can't fault me for trying to remain mysterious and aloof for a while longer, if I put those cards on the table now, you might think there's nothing more to discover about me, and start dating Kutner instead. I'm just looking out for number one."

"Kutner?" She laughed, it hadn't even occurred to her that Kutner might be date-worthy, for all she knew he had no idea the word existed. "That's hilarious, Greg. I can see myself dating a man who watches SpongeBob, and come to think of it, I believe I am. But a guy who likely has a whole collection of fan-subbed Shōnen, might even sleep with a life size replica of his favorite character... I don't think any amount of doctorates can compensate for that."

House lifted a singular eyebrow in question. "Kutner watching Japanese cartoons aimed at young boys, I don't see that. I can see him watching the ones aimed at young girls, though. Or, likeliest scenario, he's the biggest importer of Hentai this side of the continental US... hey, don't look at me like that, I take my animated entertainment very seriously, thank you. I came across those terms researching the history of SpongeBob on the internet. There's this immutable law that says you cannot ever visit only one page when surfing."

"So I don't have to worry about finding myself laying on a cardboard cutout of SpongeBob next time you bed me at your place? You have no idea how much of a comfort that is to me." Remy was hysterical with laughter for half a minute; having pulled herself together and hoping her expression was somewhat serious, she pressed on. "You still owe me the rest of the explanation."

House resumed after a brief pause to determine where he'd left off earlier. "Part two, I like to be, no... need to be in control, and try as I might, the unwashed masses have yet to yield to my mind control."

He winked before continuing. "If I can't control you, I pretty much despise you on principle, and if I can, I pretty much despise you on principle as well. My hatred of weakness isn't limited to my own self. Which means that for me to respect and trust you, I must first respect and trust you. A catch-22 Foreman, Wilson, yourself, and to an extent Cuddy have managed to find a way around. As for the Hardy Boys, I respect their skills and trust them enough to have them as fellows. I can't see myself socializing with them ever, though. Not without being liquored up to the point of delirium."

Thirteen thought she understood this and summarized. "If you can't have a meeting of the minds, there's no point in even attempting to make contact, and you forgo all basic civility, creeping you out as it does, and reserve what kindness there is for those deserving of it."

House looked a bit forlorn as he replied. "Where being kind means being less abrasive, most of the time. I mean sometimes I actually, really, positively enjoy being snide and watching people turn a whiter shade of pale as they jump, it's possibly that side of me that craves control. Most of the time that's who I am simply because actually smiling an honest to goodness friendly smile, the idea alone freaks me out the same amount as my caustic temper does others. I'm just not wired for it."

Remy didn't know what to say to this exactly, but House wasn't done; an amused smile appearing, he went on. "So Cuddy can prod me all she wants about my terrible bedside manner, no way in hell will I ever consider putting on a plastic smile, just to please a patient... Come on, they're coming to see me, right? It's not as if I'm doing cartwheels all over the place, jumping for joy that I get to treat them."

She shuddered thinking about the story she'd heard. "And then someone like Tritter comes along. I've heard it mentioned around the water cooler. Nasty piece of work, he was."

"You can say that again."

"That again."

* * *

"Dammit, House, now look at my pants. When you said I was going to be running to the bathroom, this wasn't what I had in mind." Wilson picked himself up off the floor just outside his office.

House, facing him from a safe distance, could barely contain his laughter. "I never said I was going to slip a laxative in somewhere, _you_ assumed as much. Which made it that much easier to accidentally on purpose lay a coating of floor wax and dish soap just outside your office door, knowing you weren't going to expect it."

Wilson shook his head. "A lie by omission is still a lie in my book, House. At least I knew I had _something_ coming."

House smirked. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition either. So, we still on for lunch?"

Wilson glowered, but was secretly amused just the same. "Yeah, gimme 10 to clean up some, get changed into another pair, and make a call to _House_keeping to get this mess cleaned up. You know, people working here can come to think they named that department after you, to clean up after your practical jokes."

House waved away the compliment. "Aw, shucks. Now you're just laying on the praise a bit too thickly, Jimmy."

Wilson, having difficulty thinking up a witty retort within the universally alloted time before it was considered stale, found his mouth opening and closing on its own accord.

House gave him a devious smile. "I still have some body paint somewhere, didn't use it all up last time."

"Ehm, what? Never mind, sounds like too much information." Wilson shook the cobwebs from his mind.

House limped over to the elevator, continuing the conversation whilst he waited for the cart to arrive. "I'll see you at the cafeteria in 15 then. I'm going ahead, I haven't made my quota on scaring the daylights out of interns for the day, yet. Come to think of it, Cuddles hasn't yelled at me either. I daresay I must remedy this situation forthwith, or people might think I'm getting soft, can't have that."

Wilson followed, heading in that direction to clean up in the bathroom anyway. "No, I can see that people thinking of you as a kind and caring person might be a shock to them from which they'll never recover."

House grinned. "And people say I don't give a shit."

"I wonder what gave them that impression." Wilson threw back, flashing House a wry smile.

House entered the elevator, and called out just before the doors closed. "That's what she said."

Wilson cleaned himself up some, went back to his office to put on a clean pair of slacks, and dialed Cuddy as he changed his outfit. "Lisa, we'll be in the cafeteria in 10 minutes, having lunch. I should let you know that I'm not happy going behind House's back like this, I'm only just getting back in his good graces."

Cuddy's voice came back over the speaker. "As a member of the board you have an obligation to this hospital first, that comes before House. And noted. You know as well as I however that for House's dream plan to succeed long term -- and I have to give it to him, this is something that'll benefit us all -- we need to have Cameron in place. If he figures out your involvement, I'll tell him I twisted your arm."

"To the point of dislocation. You _owe_ me." Wilson stabbed at the phone to end the call.

* * *

A quiet corner found itself a little less quiet as Wilson sat himself down across from House, handed him a Rueben and coffee, and began to speak. "In the interest of full disclosure you should know that Cuddy and Cameron will drop by any moment now, ostensibly to have lunch."

House interrupted before Wilson had the chance to launch into a diatribe about all things Cuddy. "Cuddy told you, makes sense. We're talking again, you're a member of the board, you'd have heard sooner rather than later."

Wilson inclined his head. "I'd rather have heard it from you as well, House; you probably were going to tell me once you trusted me enough again. Hoping to help out on that front, let me tell you what's coming before they arrive."

House gave a nod for Wilson to continue as he munched thoughtfully on a bite of the sandwich.

Wilson took a deep breath, knowing there was only so much time he had to explain before Cuddy and Cameron arrived, he talked faster than usual; his mind threw up the memory of the time House had spiked him with amphetamines, he ignored it. "The board wants Cameron to keep an eye on your new sub-departments, instill some fiscal sense into the ducklings. Having never run a department, they need to make them reasonably self-sufficient before the term of the grant is up. You cannot expect Foreman's work to become profitable enough... ever, really. It's blue sky research, and while it's nice to think that maybe it can start spinning out licensable patents within 5 years to sink some money back into diagnostics, that's a big guess, and I think you know this."

House reacted different to Wilson's expectations, he was calm. "Of course I know this, and the board's right. I've been around the block a few times when it comes to running diagnostics without running it aground. I'm surprised it took Cuddy this long to insist on a financial officer."

_There's a few words I never thought I'd hear Greg say, 'the board's right'_. Wilson was hesitant to continue. "Okay... and you're fine with Cameron hanging around your offices, keeping tabs on the batteries of tests everyone's going to be ordering, those don't come cheap as you know."

House shrugged, gesticulating more than usual as he explained himself, whenever he talked about this idea of his, he was fired up with an uncharacteristic passion. It was his greatest puzzle to date, and he'd solve it alright, his legacy. "I'm taking the long term view on this. As a matter of principle I don't want her around, not after she quit on me. Equally I know she has a keen sense when it comes to numbers and could help with the long term viability of my plan. I might not like it, but I'll suck it up for the greater good. I am however going to make some demands of Cuddy and Cameron they'll have to accept in return."

Wilson admired House's newfound passion, feeding off it he could almost forget about his hurt for a moment. Of course he ended up berating himself afterwards, feeling he had cheated Amber's memory by not mourning her for those few peaceful seconds.

He'd deal with that later, House and he were talking again, making that pain easier to deal with. Wilson had a solid idea what House's condition would be. "Let's guess... Cameron can walk around your departments all she wants, as long as she does so topless?"

"I was going to suggest that she show off ample cleavage at all times, but topless works for me. Ample would be a problem for her anyway, without Taub working his magic." House grinned. To be fair to Cameron, her bosom wasn't all that bad, he just liked teasing her about it. When she'd been in his arms some two years ago, he'd seen no reason to complain at all.

Wilson's eye was drawn to the cash register, two familiar forms stood there with their trays, looking around as if trying to find an empty table, and predictably seeking out theirs. "Here they come. Remember, I didn't tell you anything."

Lisa Cuddy sat down, then asked. "May we join you?"

House couldn't be bothered about the action preceding the question, preceding an answer, he hadn't made her scream at him yet. "Wilson told me everything. If you wanted my advice on that new lingerie set you bought, we could've done this somewhere more privately, Cuddles. Tell me, how are crotchless panties agreeing with you, so far?"

Cameron sat down next to House. "Same old House."

House turned to her. "Don't worry, I'll get to your underwear in a minute."

"As I said..." Cameron mumbled.

Facing Cuddy again, House went on. "Speaking of crotchless panties, let's stop beating around the bush. You want Cameron to buzz around like a busy bee for purposes of fiscal stability."

_So much for not telling Cuddy. _"Thank you, House." Wilson muttered under his breath.

House grinned to Wilson. "You're welcome." Addressing Cuddy and Cameron again, he had a point to make. "I have a few conditions for the both of you."

Cuddy shook her head. "No House, I will not give you a lap dance each day Cameron's around."

House snorted. "Now who has the gutter mind? Fine, Cameron can do the lap dance."

Cameron's eyes shot wide open, she wanted to raise her voice in outrage, then remembering this was a private meeting, hissed at him instead. "I will not!"

House waggled his eyebrows at her. "No problem, I'd settle for you walking around the offices topless."

Cameron huffed. "I thought you told me that a lack of response to my chest was indicative of nothing." _Although that one time I did let him in my pants, he couldn't keep his hands off them._

House had his answer lined up without thought. "And like any good hypothesis it needs testing before it can qualify as a theory."

Cameron looked him straight in the eyes. "I'm _not_ going to be prancing around your office half-naked, House. _Not_ now, _not_ ever."

Cuddy tried to call the meeting to order, but quickly found that smashing a plastic stirring stick against a likewise cup wasn't all that conducive to it. She spoke up. "Can we focus here for a moment?"

House made a show of showing that the twins were showing. "Do you expect me to, wearing that blouse? The twins are looking lovely today. Alright, I'll take on Cameron as financial officer for the departments on a few conditions."

"No nudity." Cameron grumbled.

House not so accidentally let his cane stub Cameron's toe. "Let me finish, wench. Optional nudity, in case you change your mind. I know you still call out my name every time you know... march the penguin."

Cameron's reply bypassed her internal censor, she went crimson in the face right after it left her mouth. "How?"

"You just told me." House smirked. "Anyway, to avoid an awkward moment. Cameron can do what she has to do to keep you guys happy, as long as she agrees to do immunology consultations for the departments, and as long as she co-authors research papers coming out of Foreman's lab, once up and running."

This didn't seem at all fair to Allison, she'd worked with him for 3 years, and these... these... wannabes got the job that should've been hers? Her usually well-controlled temper got the better of her. "You're giving your new ducklings their own department, building Foreman a lab?! What do I look like, a fool?"

If House was perturbed by this, it didn't show. "Ah yes, condition 3. Stop dyeing your hair, you look better as a brunette."

Cuddy intervened. "Dr. Cameron's choice of hair color is exactly that, hers."

Wilson stood up, he'd heard enough. "If you guys don't need me, I think I hear a wall somewhere that wants my head banging against it repeatedly."

House, unusually helpful, pointed the way. "Psych ward's that way, Jimmy."

Cameron composed herself, she had to know, why them, why not her. "Again, House. Why's Foreman getting his own lab, and your fellows their own department? I know you don't like Chase, but what about me? Heck, what's Thirteen got that I haven't, for instance."

House gave Cuddy a silencing look before answering, telling her with a glance not to mention his relationship with Thirteen to anyone, especially Cameron. "Apart from a nicer rack? She didn't quit on me to then extort a date out of me, she has twice your diagnostic aptitude, none of the bleeding heart... did I mention that she didn't try to extort me?" He followed the rhetorical question with an intake of breath, then went on. "I don't trust you, Cameron. That crystal enough for you? You want me to trust you enough to consider you as a department head come a possible future expansion round to five or more, you had better damn well earn it."

Cuddy hoped House wouldn't make Allison burst out in tears, or worse, scratch his eyes out, she had enough to deal with as it was. "That's _enough_, House."

"I hope so," he replied, then lowering the volume of his voice as he finished. "because it doesn't give me any pleasure."

Cameron was uncharacteristically terse, almost snide, as if in some way that would make her more appealing to House. That wasn't the reason for her tone of voice, of course, she was angrier with him than she had been for some time. "And Foreman's regained your trust then? Because as I recall it, he walked as well."

House shrugged, there wasn't much to be said about the matter, he trusted who he trusted. "Foreman's since proven I can bank on him. Don't tell me it doesn't thrill you to work diagnostics again, even if consulting. I saw the recordings they made of you in the ER for that documentary, we do what it takes." He left out the part where Cameron said she loved him, knowing she'd know he knew.

_Dammit, just my _luck. Cameron swallowed hard, deflecting the remark she tried to get the conversation back to finances. "Just so you know, no badgering me for a home theater in your offices. I'm no longer on the budget committee, I'd just be checking the numbers, your department heads will be fully responsible when it comes to acting on or ignoring my financial advice."

"You're both agreed, then?" Lisa was cautiously optimistic.

House just gave a nod, Cameron all but sulked. "Yes, but I'm still not going topless."

"I'll give you a dictionary for your birthday, so you can look up optional. Must be that dye job interfering with your language skills." His tone was even, his eyes showed his mirth.

"_This wasn't what I had in mind when you said I could get back into diagnostics."_ Cameron whispered to Cuddy.

House's interest always engaged when two attractive women had a private conversation. "If you're discussing a rendezvous, can I watch?"

Cuddy ignored the question, knowing better than to answer ones like that. "Board meeting's next Tuesday, a formality; all members I've polled have agreed provided you can produce your mystery money man, Greg. Cameron will start next Monday, to get acquainted with your new team. I suggest you let them know what's in store before then, all of them."

Cameron thought about the choice of words Cuddy had used. _All of them? Has he already discussed the plans with Thirteen, Kutner or Taub? Maybe Foreman?_

House nodded his agreement. "I'll have a word with them as soon as Thirteen's back, day after tomorrow."

_What the fuck, Thirteen?! He's seeing her? ... Don't jump to conclusions, Ally. He wasn't talking to Wilson when he made these plans, maybe he needed to run them by someone as a sounding board, check for viability. If she wasn't interested, what's to say the other two would be?_ Cameron looked at House again. "Who is this mystery money man any way, House? I went through a list of people saved by diagnostics in the past 4 years, nobody really stands out."

"I lied." House grinned. It was true, he'd lied, and telling Cuddy this now he could cross off one thing on his to-do list. _Make Cuddy scream, tick._

Cuddy was livid. "What?! There's no donor, this is all some sick game to you?"

House was glad for her choice of words, even in her anger; the whole hospital didn't need to know about this monetary donation just yet. The heads that turned their way soon turned back, Cuddy railing on House was a daily occurrence. "Whoa Nelly, don't get your crotchless panties in a bunch! ... I lied about the donor being a former patient. He doesn't like the limelight, and I knew you'd be all over him like vultures once I disclosed his name."

Cuddy shook her head, took a few deep breaths, the man was impossible most of the time. "So you going to tell me his name? I need to be certain, we don't want a repeat of Vogler."

House declined the offer to come forward. "Not yet. We'll both be there at the board meeting Tuesday, or if he can't make it, he'll appear via teleconference; don't worry, apart from being flush with money, he's pretty much the polar opposite of Vogler. No games here this time, I'm not going to ruin my own plan."

Lisa grudgingly accepted. "Alright, then. But you had better not let me down come that board meeting, or it will be your last day here." _Yeah, and mine._

House's eyes showed amusement. "Have I ever let you down before?" He intercepted his own question before Cuddy could answer. "On second thought, don't answer that. So, that lingerie party Cameron was whispering about earlier... want me in your office, Cuddles, or are the two of you coming to mine?"

* * *

**A/N: **All the exposition above served a purpose, and while it was a necessarily evil for me to write as a stepping stone for some future plot points, I hoped that some/all of you liked it just the same. Comments and criticism are as always welcome.


	7. GMan

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

**Author's note:** This took a bit longer than expected for a chapter that ended up shorter than expected. I think it's highly likely this has to do with the introduction of the money man, someone I'm not accustomed writing for yet. He'll be around from time to time as a cameo, next chapter should prove easier to write.

**Thanks: **Thanks go out to FantasyFreak4Life for betaing, and to all reviewers and readers. I'm happy you're still enjoying this.

**Soundtrack for this chapter:** _White Rabbit_, by _Jefferson Airplane_, as published on _Surrealistic Pillow_.

**Disclaimer:** In addition to not owning the characters from before, I also don't own the other ones mentioned.

* * *

**Chapter 6 – G-Man**

Thud. Thud. Thud. The dull thudding of House's cane on the carpeted floor of the conference room, only marginally audible over the din of his fellows' voices. He hated Mondays, but then again he wasn't exactly fond of any other day of the week either, especially when he wasn't being paid attention to. Cameron and Foreman were listening, Kutner however seemed to be more interested in telling Taub about his new Japanimation imports as previously suspected. Crack.

The loud bang of his cane handle against the white board, followed by an even louder House. "One swallow does not a slut make."

Foreman raised a singular eyebrow. "Talk about a non sequitur. Can we get on with why we're all here?"

"It follows that you should all shut up. I was trying to explain a few things when InuYasha here..." House gestured at Kutner, "decided what I had to say makes no sense. Therefore, to oblige, I made sure to say something which really didn't make sense in the current context."

Taub recovered, still lethargic from a long night of lovemaking, the first time since he'd ended the affair that he hadn't thought of his former colleague when with his wife. He felt jet lagged, but pleasantly so, enough to endure Kutner's earlier incessant rant about the difference between anime and manga.

"With you on that." He replied on autopilot, his mind still somewhere between his bedroom and this conference room, slowly being reeled in on a spool of ever growing consciousness. He realized again that his wife, woman of the world as she was, he did love her; This morning he felt convinced he'd made the right choice to work for House, and in spite of feeling more tired than he'd ever been since med school, he'd gone to work with a spring in his step.

Kutner faked a cough. "suck-up!"

_Where are we, Kutner, kindergarten? _Cameron shook her head. "House called us here to talk about a series of massive changes to this department."

House replied with faked joviality. "Thank you for ruining the surprise, Cameron."

Kutner snapped out of his musings on what next to import. They still had no case, and then it hit him. House never had coffee with them socially, they were here for a reason other than it being a work day. "You're firing us?"

Foreman slapped the back of Kutner's head gently, then immediately concluded last night's NCIS marathon maybe hadn't been such a great plan. If anyone resembled Gibbs, it was House. Towering intellect, graying hair, a large enough part of his paycheck spent on coffee to keep at least one of the local Starbucks branches supplied with minimum wage students working their way through college, a gaze that would make lesser men wither where they stood, and both had that damnable gut of theirs that made their guesses right more often than not.

As much as Foreman hated having turned into House, he couldn't help but admire the man. Maybe it helped him feel better about it, admiring someone you resembled was like admiring yourself in a way; he decided he didn't care, yet another reminder just how alike he'd become, he resolved not to care about not caring. "Don't be such an idiot. If that was the intention, he'd just have said so and you'd already be packing. Still, way too much chatter, you're all making my ears bleed. Where's Thirteen, and what is Cameron on about?"

House went back to thudding his cane on the carpet. "Thirteen's on a mission from God. Or, for lack of an actual deity, running an errand for me. She already knows what's what, I threw spaghetti at her to see what would stick."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Or... you could just say she offered her services as a sounding board."

House quickly stifled the urge to say that Thirteen was happy to offer her cervix, alright, but womb was he to judge her intentions; reminding himself that was privileged information for the time being he went with something else. "If I had wanted to say 'sounding board', I'd have done so. Spaghetti is infinitely more fun. Now will you all shut the hell up? Foreman's right, ix-nay on the atter-chay."

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of House's cane still making shallow indentations in the carpet before its fibers popped back up again. He liked the resilience it showed, the futility of his cane trying again and again to leave a mark had a calming effect on him, as if he were reciting a mantra. _Om Mani Padeume Hum__. Mu. Three pounds of flax._ Not that House thought of himself as a Buddhist, it was still too abstract, he did like the workout Koans could give a mind.

"Thank you. I sent Thirteen on a dangerous mission to hire an actor, have him pretend to be an insanely rich guy called Jack. Then this pretend-Jack's supposed to take Cuddy, Wilson and Thirteen to a belated lunch for investment talks, making sure they're not here when the real Jack drops by." Thud.

"You did what?!" Cameron tried to sound incensed but was too dumbstruck to quite manage.

"Never mind the insane theatrics, who's Jack?" Foreman smirked, a day around House was many things, but boring wasn't one of them.

Jack Hodgins came striding in the conference room at somewhat of a pace, wearing hiking shoes, a gray t-shirt over black stonewashed 501 analogs with the trademarks carefully removed, an unbuttoned khaki-colored jacket completing today's choice of garb. Some people would take hours trying for a natural look of casual nonchalance, picking at their hair until it looked like they'd just awoken. Jack was just Jack, if he'd wanted to look like he just woke up, he'd do that and not go the roundabout way; although he admitted that since taking an interest in Angela, he'd also taken more of an interest in picking out matching socks in the morning, in a manner of speaking. "That'd be me. Sorry for running late, G-Man. Ange had a few last minute plumbing problems."

House waved away the apology, unneeded between friends, and never one to insist on ceremony to start with. "The kind you only let your fiancé fix, say no more. Still King of the Lab, Moth Man?"

_G-Man? Since when has House gone government on us? _Kutner tried to make the scene before him fit, and finding some crucial information missing to him he had to ask. "Who're you?"

Ignoring Kutner and everyone else, Jack turned to Cameron. "Dr. Hottie, I think you want to put that phone down. If G-Man doesn't want Cuddy to know she's meeting with a lookalike instead of me, then he has a good reason." He then addressed House. "You did get T.J., right?"

House walked over, took the phone from Cameron's hand, stuck it in his pocket. "Of course I did, had Thirteen charge your platinum."

Jack thought for a moment, recalling all the pet names House had mentioned in their conversations over the years. "Who's Thirteen again, is she the Dr. Lesbian you mentioned?"

House grinned. "Once upon a time, yes. I was rounding up, think I'll start calling her Dr. Hustler from here on out."

"Hustler? Nice..." Jack whistled, impressed. House had already told him about his new girlfriend, he'd met her this morning in fact, introduced as Remy; if not he'd have picked up on it now, reading between the lines.

House chuckled, paying no mind to the confused looks of his former and current ducklings. "Don't let Ange hear you talk like that."

Jack winced at the thought. "To be honest, I'm more worried about what Dr. B will do to me. I won't be breaking Ange's heart any time soon, not that I'd want to."

House pointed at Jack with his cane. "I hope so, for both our sakes. One Wilson as a friend is enough."

As if they were the only two in the conference room at the moment, Jack went on, ignoring the puzzled looks of the others. "Three divorces? Not my style. Then again, before Ange I didn't think marriage was my style either."

House clapped the man on the shoulder. "It takes a big man to admit he's whipped, Bug Rogers."

Jack gave House a firm handshake, gave a shoulder clap in return. "You admitting any time soon?" He didn't expect to receive an invitation to a House-Hadley wedding any time in the near future, or ever for that matter, but Angela had told him to better bring back some dish on the good doctor, or else.

Foreman had had enough and raised his voice. "Anyone mind telling us what Kool-Aid you guys drank, and if there's more? Maybe it'll help us enter this special universe you got going for yourselves, this isn't going anywhere right now." _White Rabbit, House took the wrong pill this morning by the look of things._

Jack raised an amused eyebrow at that. "Didn't take you for the cult kind of guy, Dr. Bling..."

House agreed, smirking. "Me neither, glue sniffing perhaps, but Kool-Aid? You just went up in my esteem, Foreman."

"I like how you've lined them all up like fish in a barrel, caught like deer in headlights." Hodgins gestured around the room, taking in Cameron, Foreman, Kutner and Taub.

House swiveled his cane in Kutner's direction, a bit miffed still at the young man's earlier lack of attention. "Maybe limit it to just one kind of animal, or Kutner loses track."

Jack confirmed Foreman's suspicions about being House's drug supplier when he launched into song. "Who killed Bambi..."

House's face split in a grin. "Never mistook you for a Sex Pistols fan before, Buggeroo Banzai."

"Okay, enough! Who is this, why does he know your pet names for us, and what are we doing here?!" Foreman had run out of patience, and started to wonder if he wasn't the one who'd eaten something a bit off the other day.

"Spoilsport." Hodgins muttered.

House was short and to the point. "You have no idea. Guys, meet Jack Hodgins."

Cameron's interest was piqued, House had actually brought a bona fide investor? "Of the Minnesota Hodginses?" She'd think on how House got so chummy with one when he generally despised people showing off their wealth another time. Then again, this guy certainly didn't look the part.

Jack made a face as if he'd just accidentally swallowed a pint of unadulterated lemon juice. "Please, no. I'd have to shoot myself, Washington branch here."

_Damn. When House goes for something he really pulls out all stops._ Cameron reflected. "Cantilever Hodgins?" She found herself amused at knowing these well-to-do families, thinking she'd gone to too many of Cuddy's shindigs.

House agreed with her unspoken assessment. "Okay, it's official. You've spent way too much time with Cuddy. Yes, Cantilever Hodgins. Now can we focus for a moment, or do I have to ask Foreman to bust some caps?"

Foreman played along with the dig, if it helped him figure out what was going on here, so much the better. "I'll bust some caps as soon as you tell me why we entered the Twilight Zone."

"Remember I told you about the new department with your name on it, Foreman? Jack here will help me make that happen. That, and the rest." His boss replied.

House finally shared the expansion plans with them in great detail. Thirteen, already up to speed, was out as planned, having lunch with Cuddy, Wilson and an actor named T.J. Thyne pretending to be Jack.

Taub expected to wake up any moment now. Did House just tell him he was getting a promotion? "You're joking, right?" _I just get used to the idea of working here, and he throws this curve ball. My former partner can eat his heart out as he performs tummy tuck after face lift. Oh God, I hope House isn't joking, things are looking up today._

Foreman doubted it, House pulled a lot of stunts, but never something that would have the board revoke his tenure. "If he is, it's his most elaborate prank to date. And somehow, I think House is deadly serious about this."

House put every ounce of sarcasm he could muster in his reply. "Well, thank you for your vote of confidence, Foreman. For that I'll let you choose the carpet color in your new office."

After waiting for the right amount time to pass for a proper dramatic pause, he went on. "Of course I'm serious." He snapped. "I can understand where you all got confused, finding out I have more than one friend, you probably thought all this was a hallucination."

House would never tell anyone, but he'd actually elevated dramatic pauses, expressions, and tones of voice to a science. After years of refining the art he now had a mental table of what to say when in what manner, when to scowl, when to faux-sulk, how long a pause should be, all corresponding to the other party's own expressions and personality types. Not that it took a conscious effort to put all this in practice. On the contrary, getting bored one day he'd analyzed his responses in situations and cataloged them.

"Can't blame 'em, Greggenator." Jack parried. "Unlike your dean of medicine, you're not exactly the cuddly kind."

"Never mind that." Foreman said in turn, a bit short, then went to summarize what House had just told them. "Let me see if I got this... your friend here will be sinking a shitload of cash into the hospital, building a new wing to expand diagnostics to 4 teams. Your fellows will each lead one of the 3 new teams, with 3 new fellows of their own, you're taking on new fellows as well."

House lost his patience, they'd all had coffee this morning, right? This wasn't exactly brain surgery, and he'd expected any of them to be able to perform that as it was. "Yes, yes, dammit. It's not so hard, is it?! You'll be consulting all of them as neurologist, Cameron as immunologist, and when construction on the new wing is underway, Jack and I will host a fund raiser to build you a brand spanking new research lab, to work together with the university on some real cutting edge stuff."

Foreman, lost for words, mouthed a silent 'Wow!'

"I once valued Wilson's friendship at 5 grand, " House explained, "but even Jack has to draw the line somewhere before Cantilever starts asking questions. Oh, and if I'm right it's a metric fuckload of cash, in this case."

Jack eyes gleamed, amused at the shocked look on Foreman's face. "You need to diversify these days, so it'll be half a metric fuckload, and half an imperial fuckload... I think I'll get a few questions regarding this amount as it is, but never mind that. I'm just glad I can make a contribution. The fund raiser's not because I couldn't afford to build the lab as well, it's to give some much needed publicity to your particular areas of expertise, something which I understand all too well, as a fellow scientist."

"You're a scientist as well?" Taub stammered in surprise.

_Duh, Greg asked if I was still King of the Lab, didn't he? _Jack decided to play a bit with Taub, feigning hurt feelings he snapped at the man in mock anger. "What, you expect me to play lacrosse and golf all day, talk stocks? I'm not brain dead; I've thrice the number of PhD's you have, for weeping with volume. Where'd you find this clown, Greg?"

House was all too happy to oblige Jack in his fun and games. "He used to be a plastic surgeon, so I got him on the cheap when Michael Jackson went to trial. Market crashes are a biatch."

Taub racked his brain for a suitable apology. "I uh..."

Hodgins sulked quite convincingly. "Don't sweat it. I'm sure you pull your weight, or you'd not even be here right now. I just hate it when people assume I'm stupid or lazy because I have money, as if that's my fault."

"Well, there's your Warren Buffett's and there's your Paris Hilton's, guess who gets the most attention." House quipped by way of support.

Taub stammered again, still not in control of his voice. "I wasn't... I didn't know you were a scientist is all." _Dammit, opportunity of a lifetime, and I have to piss off the money man. Just peachy, wife dearest will kill me when she finds out._

Jack looked to House, giving a surreptitious wink. "He always fooled that easily?"

Turning back to Taub he explained. "Damn, that was just ... I'm yanking your chain, man, relax. I wasn't kidding about the PhD's, though."

Click. Click. Click. House knew that sound anywhere, the jig was up. Cuddy came storming in, Wilson and Thirteen in her wake. "House, your office. Now! You have one minute to explain why I shouldn't fire Thirteen and you on the spot."

Thirteen mouthed a sorry to House, he made no move towards his office.

Cuddy finally noticed Jack for the first time. "Ehm... didn't we just leave you at the restaurant?"

"Obviously not, I've been here for close to 40 minutes now." Hodgins deadpanned.

Cameron and Foreman nodded affirmative when Cuddy looked to them for confirmation.

Cuddy was puzzled, she was sure she'd just had lunch with this man, or half a lunch until she figured out he wasn't the man she thought she was supposed to see. "Then who?"

Jack leaned back against the table casually, took a sip from House's red mug. "That would've been T.J. Thyne. Apparently everyone has a lookalike, and he's mine. I hire him from time to time. Not because I'm paranoid and think I'm in danger... I mean I am paranoid, but that's not why I hire him. He gets me out of boring social events."

"Right..." Cuddy said, not convinced so much as wondering if the psych ward was short a patient.

House took back his mug, had a sip of his own. "Oh grow up, Cuddy. He's not here about his paranoia today, he's here to talk about the investment. I just wanted him to meet the team before he spoke to anyone on the board of directors."

Cuddy, still suspicious, had to ask. "And you're really Jack Hodgins?" She sent up a silent prayer to a god she didn't believe in, figuring it couldn't hurt. They'd all be in a world of trouble if this was one of House's mind games after all.

Hodgins produced his wallet and had a look at his driver's license, then offered it to Cuddy who reviewed it shortly before returning it. "I hope so, or I stole his identity."

Cameron was dying to know. "Maybe an impertinent question, but how do you know House?"

Hodgins smiled at her, he appreciated people asking straightforward questions. "About 7 years ago I was at an entomology conference, decided to stop by the bar afterwards. I found G-Man here beset upon by a truck driver telling him his life story."

Thirteen made her way over to House, standing a discreet distance from him. "Earl McBoring." She'd met Jack this morning, House had introduced his friend to her. She liked his lack of pretense; a man of his background driving a Mini Cooper, no wonder House had taken to him. He evaluated people on their merits, not their means.

Jack had something to tell Ange now, it had to be serious if she knew about Earl. "Correct, Earl. Greg says I saved him from death by boredom, personally I think the truck driver escaped from death by cane. We've been good friends ever since."

Cameron was confused. How the hell did Thirteen know something so personal about House? Had they become friends in the past few weeks, lovers even? _Happy thoughts, Ally. Don't weigh the evidence before it's all in._

Wilson was pissed off royally. "He's your friend, been your friend for 7 years? Don't you think your other friend might have wanted to know?"

House had a snark of his own. "Right, the friend who I thought until a certain Victoria Madsen came to my attention four years ago had only one brother." _Not this again, this has to be defused quickly._

Wilson shook his head at his friend, not happy to find himself fighting with House either, not now when they'd just patched up their friendship. He couldn't help himself, however. "That is so completely different, House."

"Yeah, right!" House scoffed. "Lack of trust versus lack of trust, I must be missing something..." House went with a rare show of adult behavior, hoping Wilson would go with his attempt to rise above such pettiness before it ruined their still tattered friendship. "Let's not blow this out of proportion, Jimmy, two weeks of not talking is enough. Let's assume Jack never came up in conversation just like your brother never did."

Cuddy mentally sighed relief when House's strategy seemed to work and Wilson calmed down, she then tried to regain control of the conversation. As far as House was concerned, she was at the end of her rope. "I don't like your stunt one bit, House. Just because this is the real Jack Hodgins doesn't mean you're not fired."

The disappointment in Cuddy's voice ringing clear compensated for the lack of force behind the words, or perhaps the apparent apathy was the most menacing about it. Whatever it was, it made Remy's left eye twitch a few nanometers, in spite of the dispassionate mask she wore at work. She could tell it affected House as well, who showed a similar minimalistic tick, and he always cleaned out whenever the hospital held a charity poker event. It appeared both their frayed nerves were lost on the rest, she just knew how to read him, being an enigma wrapped in a puzzle herself.

Hodgins would have no truck with Cuddy's statement. "Of course it does. Without House, no investment; no investment, your job's up for review. Don't presume to teach me anything about boardroom politics, I hate it because I know the game all too well."

Cuddy threw up her hands in defeat, knowing better than trying to out-politic someone born into the game. "Fine! Boardroom tomorrow, let's talk terms." She stalked off, hating the game as much as he did; a necessary evil when it came to running a hospital, politicking. He'd won the game, she'd try for the set and match tomorrow.

Jack leaned in towards House. "Feisty, I like."

* * *

**A/N:** And here we are, at the end of yet another episode in this saga. Reviews are accepted as a currency to redeem against chocolate-covered idols of your favorite character, should you feel so inclined. #1

Next chapter we'll be witness to the boardroom meeting. Have a wo0t! on my tab in anticipation.

P.S. Don't worry, this won't turn into a full-blown House-Bones crossover. Hodgins is here for a cameo, and although House might attend the Hodgela wedding in the future, that'll probably be the extent to which these worlds will collide.

1 — Offer only valid on planets in the Alpha Proxima system, but feel free to leave comments and critiques just the same.


	8. Smile, it confuses people

**Legacy**

**a House fanfic**

_**And now a word from our sponsors... Legacy is brought to you by **_**Kelimion****_ (original idea, word smith extraordinaire, plot twister) and _FantasyFreak4Life_ (beta reading, resident House characterization expert, plot twister)._**

**_We now return you to your irregularly scheduled programming._**

**Author's note (Kel): **Ever since chapter 3 when FF4L started beta reading Legacy, it's become more and more of a joint effort. After talking this over the decision was made, and I'd now like to classify it as exactly such, hence the above service announcement. In addition I might place dates in scene headings from time to time, and I'll backdate older chapters when I go back to clean them up.

As for the delay, I had a very messed up stomach riding shotgun instead of my muse as I tried to write, bothering a good three days. Stomach bugs suck.

**Thanks: **Thanks go out to our reviewers and readers, of course.

**Soundtrack for this chapter: **_Piano concerto 3, movement 1_, by _Rachmaninoff_, performed by _Vladmir Ashkenazy_

**Disclaimer: **This redundant message brought to you by the redundant department of redundancy.

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Smile, it confuses people**

**Monday, January 28th 2008**

Tap. Tap. Tap. House was tapping out the rhythm on his desk in time with the music coming to his ears from his new iPod. The new device wasn't sterile and white, it was sterile, black and could play videos as well as music, allowed him to check his email account that he almost never read as it was, and do a whole lot of other stuff he didn't think he'd ever use. But hey, it played music.

He really just wanted to go home and actually play his piano, a lot was on his mind. Jack had met his team today, the board meeting was tomorrow at 3pm, and Cuddy had once again threatened to revoke his tenure. Jack had quickly and effectively put a stop to Cuddy's line of thought on that matter, but that didn't mean it had stopped bothering House. He needed to go home and have lots of mind-blowing sex with Thirteen, or play the piano... or both, although preferably not at the same time.

Despite her being fifteen feet away in the conference room, House paged her. _"Remy, close the blinds – H"_

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she read it and got up. With the exception of a few stolen kisses here and there, a few interludes in supply closets there and here, they hadn't been big on public displays of affection so far at work, but then they'd only considered themselves a couple for ... not that long. The intensity of their relationship belied the brevity, and somewhere along that short line she'd already moved from thinking about him to thinking about we. The surreality of it had segued into a natural acceptance, _it_, _they_, they just worked.

She closed the door connecting the conference and his office, moved on to shut the blinds.

"So, your place or mine tonight? Mine preferably, because after I have my wicked way with you I want to play the piano for a bit." House asked as soon as the connecting door had closed.

Remy's smile faded. "I can't, my aunt's in town."

House already knew she was on her period right now. "I know. What, you think I hadn't figured out your cycle by now? Boss, makes sense for me to know when you might be hormonally imbalanced."

A grunt escaped Thirteen. "Right, as if you ever considered my feelings before we started seeing each other."

House smiled. "Got me there. Still, I can't help but observe things, it's in my nature."

Thirteen had now closed all the blinds and joined House on the sofa, leaning against him and pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek. House anticipated the move and turned it into a full on snog. "When I said I'd try anything once... that wasn't what I had in mind." Remy mumbled against his lips.

"A good sailor isn't afraid to brave the red seas." House replied, for once without the accompaniment of his brow waggle.

Remy's cramps hit her full force at the thought, she pushed down the pain. "Maritime analogies now, what happened to sports metaphors?"

House felt for her as he saw the pain mar her countenance for no more than a second, wishing no pain to ever visit her; yet he certainly admired how she recovered so easily, pushing away the experience of pain into a compartment of her mind that hardly affected her as long as her concentration held. Where he was a prime alpha male, she was without doubt his female counterpart. "They were sold out, should be back in stock tomorrow."

"Alright, your place then. No more than heavy petting until you're back on sports metaphors, though. It's not the sailing that creeps me out, cramps can be a bitch." She felt a surge of feeling for him seeing he was sympathetic for her pain, and she could tell it wasn't just because it put it damper on their sex drives.

What had started out in lust had certainly grown into more already, and unless she was severely mistaken, it hadn't been lust alone that had triggered either of them the first time. _I'm screwed, sneak up on me indeed... and then hit me over the head with a hammer. Good thing I'm screwed in such an utterly pleasurable way._ She resolved not to be the first to put the sentiments into words out loud, the arrangement they had now was just fine as far as she was concerned, no need to complicate things this early on.

House recognized the look in her eyes, it wasn't all that unlike the look he'd reserved for her and her alone of late, and like Remy he told himself not to voice his feelings for the time being; she'd never believe him if he told her this early on in their relationship, and the last thing he wanted was for her to run for the hills, even if he was almost certain she reciprocated. "Do us both a favor, take a Vicodin and down it with some Scotch. It's been too long."

Thirteen gave him a significant look at that statement, said nothing.

"What?" House asked, with genuine surprise. "It's been fifteen hours, too long. I can't help it that you're putting these thoughts in my mind."

* * *

**Tuesday, January 29th 2008 – 7:00**

The sound of House playing the first movement of Rachmaninoff's third piano concert woke Remy. Half asleep she sidled up to him, gave him a kiss, and added another when even through half-closed eyes she could see his mind was a torrent. A lot was riding on the outcome of the meeting later that day.

Remy, dressed in her usual attire when either was at the other's apartment, nothing but a smile, disappeared into his bathroom. "Rach 3, I like. Join me in the shower when you're done?"

* * *

**Tuesday, January 29th 2008 – 15:00**

Everyone had taken their seats. Officially the old and new ducklings weren't invited, unofficially they were allowed to witness the proceedings with the understanding they had to keep quiet unless asked a direct question by a board member.

Cuddy smashed a proper stainless steel spoon into a proper ceramic mug of tea this time, relieved when she heard the nerve-grating sound. "Welcome to the board meeting, ladies and gentlemen. We have with us today Dr. Jack Hodgins, of the Cantilever Group. He's expressed an interest in investing in the diagnostics department. I won't bore anyone with the details of the plan, you all have the manila with the essentials. Let's get right down to brass tacks, how much are we talking about here?"

Jack smiled, appreciating the forwardness and not thrown off guard in the least. In fact he'd suspected she'd open along these lines, just as yesterday's exchange had labeled her a worthy opponent to him. _Time to rock some socks off. _"Let me address it this way, can I use a speaker phone?"

Lisa nodded to the one in the middle of the table. "9 for a direct line."

Jack punched in the number, the phone ringing twice before being answered. "Crédit Lyonnais Suisse, bon nuit." Before long the woman on duty in Zürich recognized the American country code of the calling party and switched to English, laced with a peculiar accent, a sing-song lilt. "How may I direct your call?"

"Jack Hodgins, Cantilever. Please direct me to the account manager for the account I opened this morning in name of Gregory House, M.D."

"One moment, sir." Came the lilting voice after a brief interval.

"Good afternoon, sir. Please identify by punching in the account number, followed by hash, followed by one of the one time codes you were sent from our Washington branch." The account manager unmistakably an English ex-patriot, Jack complied with his requirements, his finger a blur on the phone in a manner close to House's playing of the piano that morning.

"Very well. How may I help you, sir?" The manager again, educated in one of the English equivalents of an ivy league university. Cambridge, after Eton as 'high school', if House had to guess, and he knew a bit about inflections.

"I'm in a board meeting with the hospital in question that I set up this account for, should we come to agreeable terms. Could you tell us the specifics?" Hodgins smiled, certain that the information given momentarily would unsettle some of the room's occupants, although he doubted Lisa Cuddy would so much as flinch, however much or little she might feel affected. He recognized true players, and even if not entirely in his league, he knew he had to keep on his toes around her.

"Account opened yesterday by yourself. Signatories are Dr. Gregory House, M.D., and Dr. Jack Hodgins. Any transactions over 15,000 US Dollars per diem or 500,000 USD per month require both signatures. It draws 6 percent interest per annum over the amount present on the last calendar day. Before we can activate Dr. House's access to the account, however, he'll need to sign a few documents at one of our branches. If you call me first and tell me which one, I'll make sure they have the requisite paper work for you."

House swallowed, three bikes a day, a hundred a month. He thought briefly if the man on the other side of the line converted the amount into trifles, stiff upper lip as he sounded.

"Current bottom line, please?" Jack inquired.

"The account in question currently holds 50 million euros, roughly 78 million US Dollars at the current exchange rate." House surmised from the man's tone that whatever he thought of as his innate currency, trifle was not on his personal list of accepted tender.

Several board members launched into a coughing fit at the idea of House having access to more than they'd ever make in their career. Cuddy, for her part, smiled, knowing it would confuse some people. She admitted to herself that whatever faults Hodgins might have, he knew how to play hardball, but then she'd known that since the encounter the day before.

"That'll be all for now, thanks." Jack ended the call.

Some days it freaked him out, the fortune at his fingertips, in fact that was his precise reaction when he went from an innocent kid interested in insects to being groomed as a successor. He hated it as much as he knew the younger members of European royalty had to resent it, he hadn't asked to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Plenty a day a plastic one would've been far preferable to him, for now however all resentment he felt to his family for his formal education in the art of hardball politicking washed away as he put it to use for what he considered a worthy cause, his friend needed him. Time to bemoan his lack of a typical childhood another time, a lack he knew he shared with House, one of the things that had allowed them to bond.

Cuddy gave a nod towards Hodgins. "That's quite the tidy sum, you must trust House a lot."

Jack's answer was upon her almost before she'd finished her questioning statement. "Implicitly."

Lisa found the sum of 78 million dollars a somewhat enigmatic choice. "How did you arrive at that amount?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, of course there was rhyme and reason to it. "Your last yearly states diagnostics runs a bill of 3 per annum, give or take. Multiplied by 20 for 4 teams sponsored for 5 years, and add a generous amount for unforeseen cost overruns. Murphy's Law sucks, but that doesn't make it any less valid, even in business."

"And Dr. House as primary signatory... How do I put this?" Lisa wasn't at all happy with that particular choice, they had to do better if she were to accept.

Jack adopted one of House's favorite expressions, a smirk appearing on his face. "You think it's a bad idea? It's his department we're talking about. If he's out of the picture, the grant goes with him."

"That's not what I meant." Lisa answered, knowing that House if not Hodgins as well could tell without fail that was exactly what she'd meant. At least Hodgins had answered the unasked question. "House is not the kind of guy to pay bills all day.

"I agree." Jack conceded. "He can use the secure web interface, though, and set up recurring payments. That or he can add another cosignatory of his choice, as long as I trust them, or he can just let Cantilever's accountants worry about it. That's all details we need not think about now."

_So much for Cameron or myself being cosignatory, not good enough. _"I can't have House holding the donation ransom like that; I have a hospital to run, him having that kind of leverage is unacceptable. So _yes_, we _do_ need to think about it now." Her tone just short of being clipped and only superficially polite.

"Then let's agree that House and I wire the hospital 15 each year, starting when we've signed contracts. You can spend the funds as you wish within the bounds of our agreement, and as long as all of us are happy with the direction a year later, we wire another 15. Anything major happens that requires additional funds, contact House, he'll contact me."

Cuddy smiled without having to put much effort into it, so far this tennis match had gone well. She had a feeling Jack felt good about the outcome to date as well, evidently he was looking for a friendly partnership with the hospital, not a zero-sum game on Cantilever's behalf. If conversation headed in that direction, he'd find himself politely asked to find another hospital to invest in.

This didn't mean Lisa was about to let her guard down, she hadn't risen to this position at her comparatively young age without growing a pair, so to speak. "Very well, that sounds like an amicable solution, Dr. Hodgins; I take it you will have some conditions for this hospital to agree upon, should we all consider this the way to go forward. This new wing for instance, you'll want this named the 'Hodgins wing of Diagnostic Medicine', or some such? Or would you want a seat on the board of directors, or both? To be frank we've had a less than stellar experience with the latter before.

Jack breathed easier knowing they'd now arrived where he wanted this particular part of the negotiations to end up at, happy with the outcome as far as financial arrangements were concerned. "Call me Jack, please. And I've heard about Vogler, Greg's told me all about it. As far as a seat on the board directors is concerned, you can give it to Greg for all I care..." Jack saw House was less than pleased at such a prospect, not that he needed the visual confirmation. "not that I think he'd accept such a position; I'm already on the board of directors with Cantilever, and it's not as if I attend those meetings unless I absolutely have to. With regards to my last name, I've already promised it to my fiancé as a wedding present, and no offense, but I doubt she'd like to be confused with a building full of sick people."

"And yet no doubt you do have some stipulations, Jack. Let's hear them." Cuddy took a sip of cinnamon tea.

"Only a few." He said, meaning a lot. The more he threw up there to be shot down, the more Greg and he got to take home with them when all was said and done. "I want Greg's contract amended to make him immune from further talk of dismissal. Unless his medical license is ever revoked, you can't revoke his tenure. He also gets a 20 percent pay raise since he'll be overseeing a much larger department. Greg and Greg alone decides who's on his staff, as long as they have the required papers; it's ultimately his reputation that's on the line first and foremost. And excuse my French, but if he or his staff fucks up, PPTH's spin doctors can point out the relative autonomy of diagnostics, so in return let them deal with fallout themselves. I know House, he works his best when not subjected to politics."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "What about lectures and such? If he's immune from any form of reprimand we'll never get him to attend anything."

Jack had a suggestion, some sweet to counter the sour. "You can request him to attend 6 functions annually, only two of which he's allowed to turn down." Jack felt for House when the man choked on his drink, but this had to be done. Sun Tsu had nothing on his relatives after the final score was tallied. "If you really want him to attend something in specific, and he's reluctant, I guess you'll have to bargain hard."

"As appealing as your offer is, we can't accept those terms." Her tone brooked no argument, and she knew that the actual bargaining about terms would now commence.

Jack smiled brightly. "I didn't think you would, but we have to start somewhere. I've shown I'm open to bargaining, how about you make Greg and I a counter offer."

_A nutjob. Three PhD's is fine and all, but he's definitely crossed from genius firmly into madness. _His smile reminded Cuddy briefly of her perception of him when she first encountered the man in diagnostics. She knew better than to let that negatively color her perception of him as a negotiator, someone so screwed up playing so well was even more formidable an opponent. "First off, we need to know if Doctors Foreman, Cameron, Hadley, Taub and Kutner are in agreement with their proposed new roles."

"Do zebras have stripes?" Foreman asked.

Jack shook his head. "I live for the day zebras don't have their wardrobe questioned."_ A little madness can't hurt, Cuddy can't figure out an apparent tactic if there seemingly is none._

In answer to Cuddy the rest kept quiet, with something between a smile and a smirk on Remy's face.

Cuddy nodded. "Good, then you all have a job to come back to tomorrow. Congratulations on your respective promotions."

"Nice..." Jack admired Cuddy's play, if it hadn't been for Angela he'd consider inviting Lisa to a friendly dinner. Of course in his current position he had to downplay it a bit. "An expected tactic, nice nonetheless."

"Jack, I reject your request that House be immune to disciplinary review as long as he keeps his medical license." Lisa stated her own proposed terms. "I will however accept your proposal regarding charity events, lectures and the like. As a counter offer House will only have to do 20 hours of clinic duty a month, and I _mean_ House, not him sending someone else. I still get to discipline him as usual."

Jack smacked his lips. "Not good enough. 15 hours of clinic duty a month, and no disciplinary action unless a full meeting of the board such as this is in unanimous agreement."

"80 percent in agreement." Cuddy offered in return, meaning that even if Wilson voted in favor of House, it would do their cantankerous friend no good if he was really in trouble.

Jack knew this would nullify Wilson's vote on behalf of House. First they had to patch up their friendship again as it was, so it wasn't much of a loss, secondly Jack held a trump of his own. "As long as all members are present, and everyone votes yay or nay, 80 percent of the votes is acceptable. He gets a fair chance to contest the outcome however, and I get a carbon copy of the meeting notes for any such hearings. Should House or his people ever require legal assistance, and this goes for lawsuits leveled against them by annoyed patients as well, Cantilever will happily supply it. IBM's lawyers are nicknamed Nazgul, we call our own Sith Lords."

Cuddy held no illusions what kind of lawyers they would be, without question the best money could buy. As much as that could pose a problem if they ever fired House, alleging unlawful termination and all, they'd cross that bridge should they get there. Personally she didn't think it would come to that, Hodgins might be an unknown factor, but she could count on House playing for Team House; he wouldn't mess up his own plan, and as long as he didn't, the hospital wouldn't need to fire him. "That'll save the hospital two hundred thousand a year, so I thank you for that concession."

Jack was happy she'd accepted the double-edged sword. It saved the hospital a lot of headache as long as House was in their good graces, so he could see why Cuddy wouldn't mind a Trojan horse of this kind all that much, even if its internals were openly presented. "It wasn't a concession, it's a protective measure for my buddy."

Cuddy wanted to conclude the meeting, go home and celebrate, soak in bath, drink a good wine. "Regardless, as for your other points... House can have final say about who he hires as long as their papers are in order, and as long as it doesn't fall afoul of any affirmative action laws."

Jack asked for some much unneeded clarification. "You're saying at least a third or so of the hires have to be women, even if there's better male candidates?"

"He won't mind, he hired me as lobby art." Cameron supplied from the peanut gallery.

"Thank you for your unsolicited input, Dr. Cameron." Cuddy told the other woman. "You may leave, I'll see you in my office tomorrow morning."

Jack smirked. "Something in your eyes tells me that was rehearsed. Never mind, I agree House has to follow any laws pertaining to employment when it comes to hires."

_Great, another profiler, small wonder he plays this game so well. Time to wrap this up, Lise, before any tells become telling._ "If I agree to a fifteen point raise for House are we all agreed?"

"Yes." Jack was nice and succinct, mission accomplished. "I'll send my people over with the contracts in a week. You can expect the first 15 million to arrive in a hospital account of your choosing within minutes of the contracts having been signed."

Cuddy was mentally celebrating but had to go for another concession on House's part. "One last thing before we shake on it. House has to attend a charity event this weekend, a cancer ball."

"Is that where everyone dresses up with a latex headpiece, looking like they've had chemo?" Jack raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Weird people, you Princetonians."

House barked a laugh. "No, although that would be fun... Alright, Cuddles, if you agree to all these terms, I'll come this weekend."

Cuddy shook with Hodgins first, House second. "Then it's a deal, and bring a date that's not Wilson this time."

* * *

**A/N: **Hoping you once more enjoyed it. Feel free to tell us if you didn't, but don't shy away from saying you did. Anything in particular that stuck out (good or bad), we'd like to know so as to better our art. Thanks in advance.

**Preview:** Next episode will see House and Thirteen starting a rumor, them attending the above mentioned cancer charity ball together, and a confrontation between Cameron and House.

**P.S. **We're taking a break from publishing for a moment to revisit earlier chapters and clean them up. Chapters 1 and 2 specifically don't follow the formatting later established. Once that's done and we have 1 or 2 new chapters queued up for publication, the next one will appear here. This break will last somewhere between a week and two weeks. The reason for this is that the planned sequel to Legacy (don't worry, it's some 30 chapters away) can then have its first chapter published straight after the last one of this fic, that and it gives us a buffer to publish from if we suffer from a devastating lack of inspiration for more than a week.


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